Honor Saga
by kataract52
Summary: AU set after X-treme X-Men. After her mother's death, Honor LeBeau turns to the father she's never known, and Gambit finds himself once again involved with the Guild. Rated for violence and adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Any characters you recognize belong to Marvel. The rest (Honor, Johnny, Solie…) belong to me. I make no profit from these stories other than my own self-satisfaction. Enjoy!

The Honor Saga

**Chapter One**

_Valle Soleada, California_

Golden sunlight poured through the dainty curtains and spilled across the bed. A single white bed sheet was crumpled and folded around two bodies: one sleeping and one awake. Rogue was content to spend the morning memorizing her partner's face. She had seen his handsome, untamed mug nearly every day for seven years, but in that life, she never knew him like this. The prison of reality felt a hundred years away, and this life felt like a dream.

He woke under the weight of her stare, and croaked: "Mornin', chere."

"Mornin', sugah."

She pressed her lips to his soft mouth, soured from sleep. He tasted like Cody, the only other boy she'd ever loved. Sometimes when she kissed Remy, she remembered the thirteen-year-old boy whose life she'd stolen. She wondered if the two men shared an identical chemistry to which she was drawn. Or maybe all men tasted the same.

Remy would know if all _women_ tasted the same: he'd sampled an impressive collection. Rogue might've been a romantic novice, but she knew better than to bring up former lovers in bed. His stories would only upset her.

His large, calloused hands snaked around her backside and brought her closer. She gladly climbed on top and kissed his neck. When he returned the gesture, she gasped out loud and shivered. It bothered her that he never seemed as aroused as she _felt_.

When they first moved in together, she knew the sex would be explosive. They'd wasted the last five years flirting and dancing around foreplay. Sometimes, he only needed to exhale and she yearned for him. Four years ago, she'd given him her virginity. He had been dedicated to her, and she didn't regret it… But they had expected the world to end that night. Neither one of them knew how to deal with the fallout.

For the next few years, they dated on and off. She knew he saw other women, and it made her crazy. She let him think she slept with the few men brave enough to court her… Magneto, Joseph, Longshot… Despite her love for Remy, she enjoyed watching him suffer. It was the only way she knew he loved her.

The only feeling as strong as love is jealousy. Since true happiness was unattainable, agony became the drug of choice. She nursed every insult, broken promise and betrayal in lieu of growing trust. Twisted as it was, he played along.

After her "break-up" with Joseph, Remy broke into her room and forced himself on her. She could have easily overpowered him, but he was insane with jealousy and she wanted him like that. Afterwards, he lay beside her and apologized.

"What's _wrong_ with us?" she asked aloud.

Forbidden and repressed love was intoxicating and exciting, but an open and acknowledged relationship was suffocating and mundane. The joy from sharing household chores was not nearly as exciting as hearing him make love to another woman. Sometimes she would sit outside the door and listen. Her co-workers would throw her apologetic glances as they passed in the hall. Even _that_ was more exciting than knowing he'd be in her arms every morning.

How did normal people _live_ like this?

Rogue found herself creating fights just so they could have angry sex.

Remy didn't need the drama… At least he didn't need it to crave sex. He could perform any time, and she could already feel him becoming aroused. She tried to pull away, but he held her close and smacked her bottom. She struggled, still adjusting to her normal-human strength. Over powering him was no longer a possibility. He continued to spank her, and the frustration built like water behind a dam.

"You say: 'T'ank you, sir; may I have another?'"

"Ah _hate_ you!" She lifted her knee to strike his most vulnerable area, and he quickly moved to defend. With him distracted, she turned to flee. He grabbed her once more, and pinned her face-down against the mattress. She felt his erection enter her from behind and sighed contently. The tension melted and mounted once more.

"Need a condom, sugah," she reminded him.

"Just enjoy it," he pleaded with hot kisses along her back and shoulders. She never could deny him anything.

This position kept his thrusts shallow. Light, darting penetrations did nothing for him, but drove her into a frenzy. She shifted her hips so the movements went deeper and deeper. She felt a little embarrassed, knowing her ass was completely exposed. His warm hands lifted and separated her cheeks, allowing deeper access. She heard him spit and felt a light wetness on her exposed orifice. A thick thumb slid inside, and she gave a helpless little whimper.

He was close. He forced his mind elsewhere, but his body was already set. When he told her, he expected a demand of consideration. She deserved as good as she gave.

Instead, she raised her hips off the mattress and forced herself back on him. This strange angle required the use of all her abdominal muscles, creating a sucking sensation usually associated with the mouth. He groaned and pushed her further into the mattress.

"Ah want ya t' come inside me," she moaned.

He quickly pulled out and spilled his seed across her back. Once she realized what was happening, she sat down and took him in her mouth, groaning and swallowing his juices.

The pleasure quickly faded, and her attention became painful. He pushed her away a little rougher than he should have, and then cradled her like a precious find. After a few moments to collect his bearings, he laid her out like a blanket and returned the favor.

Remy had many faults, but none of them extended to his lovemaking. He loved her until she wept and every thought fled her mind. He was the only man she'd ever loved, and the only one who'd ever brought her pleasure like this. When they were intimate, Rogue understood the great sexual mysteries of mankind. She understood the purpose of the female orgasm, the survival of monogamy, and the desire to join genes with another.

But as a puddle of euphoric sensations, all she could convey was: "Ah love you".

.::.

_June 27_

This particular day, which began with the normal arguments and climaxed with the usual make-up sex, would end up shattered and lost.

Rogue's life hadn't been blessed with much in the way of _normalcy_. As a love-child, she lived on the poor side of the Mississippi. Her parents were gypsies, always moving from one shanty to another. Always fighting. In the earliest years of her life, her mother abandoned her. The details were hazy at best. Sometimes Rogue thought she could remember her, but her memories were unreliable.

She could recall being so miserable at home that she ran away. Eventually, she was taken in by an agenda. At the time, she was young and foolish enough to believe that group was a family. The truth revealed itself with time.

At thirteen, her mutations manifested. Most mutants were harmless… Perhaps their physical appearance was altered or they had enhanced abilities, but most couldn't cause much damage.

Again, Rogue was unusual. Her mutations caused her skin to absorb the life from another through physical contact. Fortunately, the violation was limited to direct skin contact and couldn't permeate through clothing, allowing her a degree of control. _Unfortunately_, the first person she touched after the manifestation died.

Her second victim worth mentioning was Ms. Marvel. Rogue drained her to the brink of death, leaving the young mutant with super-human strength and the ability to fly.

She survived as best she could, occasionally stealing the lives of others. Their memories bled into her own. She hardly knew where _they_ ended and _she_ began. As she took and took from others, she lost herself. In an attempt to regain her sanity, she joined the X-Men.

The team worked under Professor Xavier, who repaired Rogue's mind initially and tried to help her control her powers. As the two of them discovered some reasons for her manifestation, that project fell by the wayside. Rogue didn't need to _think_ her way through a physical problem. Xavier couldn't accept her past trauma enough to _force_ her mind out of the past and into her body. The two of them were more content with protecting mutant rights than examining personal issues.

She was the antithesis of all they aspired. The ragtag band of misfits worked together for a better future, all the while hating and loving each other as a family. The only family most of them had. That's how she met Remy.

"Gambit" was his cover name. Oh, he was dangerous and untrustworthy and a lover of women… But he was also exciting and mysterious and romantic.

While she struggled with her sanity and identity, poor Remy played the role of punching bag. Rogue and Xavier both punished him for pushing her into a romantic relationship. He didn't think her life-stealing powers _or_ past abuses where any reason to accept celibacy. For all his patience and insistence, her condition never improved.

But then: a break. An accident in the spring left them both powerless, and able to pursue a _normal_ relationship.

The journey brought them to an isolated beach house in Valle Soleada. The tiny "town" had a school, fire department, post office, grocery store, mechanic shop, and a dozen houses spread miles apart. The only cop came courtesy of the next town, sleeping in his car at the only intersection. Rogue thought it could be the perfect place to conduct some criminal activity… But the citizens were too intimate with each other.

The community buzzed with excitement at Rogue and Remy's arrival. Nosy old women asked how they met, how long they planned to stay, and when they would have children. Honestly, not much else to do in this town besides make babies.

She'd never put much thought into the issue of children. Never thought it could be a possibility. But now that it was… Did she even _want_ to be a mother? By Mississippi standards, her biological clock was ticking. But was Remy father material? Despite his vague dreams of retiring and raising a family, she didn't think he was prepared for that.

He certainly didn't enjoy his "retirement" as much as he'd hoped.

Well, none of those issues were pressing on the twenty-seventh. That particular day, the power had gone out and the house became a torture chamber. She sat outside under a palm tree, trying to cool off while Remy fought with the breaker box. Mutant powers or _non_, he still did a fine job of blowing things up.

A noise pulled her attention to the dirt road leading to their little house. A pick-up truck approached, billowing dirt clouds behind it. It was still small on the horizon, but her heart went cold. They had no reason for visitors.

Had an enemy located them? Had something happened to one of the X-Men? She had a terrible premonition.

In the mint-green and white Ford pickup sat the unlikeliest of pairs. The driver was Johnny Sanchez, and he was very proud to call this beauty his. Growing up in the poor majority of Mexico, he'd always dreamed of lovely old cars, wonderful blues music, wealthy white women, and making it all his. His dream had come true, and now he had new hopes. He wanted to make a fortune on his talent, which happened to be music.

He was a rock-star living a normal man's life. He had the fancy clothes, the silky hair, the car, the talent… But he missed his big break. Instead of touring with his band this year, he ended up traveling with his goddaughter.

Eleven-year-old Honor sat beside him, roasting in the heat. The downside to lovely old cars was that they lacked modern conveniences, but she didn't complain. She _never_ complained. Strawberry-blonde hair fought in the wind and stuck to her damp forehead. She'd be a lot cooler if she would've dressed in sandals and skirts like other girls, but she made a point to be different.

Poor thing had been an outcast all her life. Finally, she embraced it. She dressed in combat boots and pants, even during the relentless Southern summers. On Sundays, she'd wear a dress _over_ the standard attire, which expanded this summer to include enormous sunglasses. She completely rejected the fads of her age: the music, the movies, the celebrities. Her only friends were in the books she read. She wasn't _antisocial_. She just knew people would reject her and beat them to the punch.

Far too young to be so jaded.

Why didn't anyone like her? For starters, she was a mutant. Some could pass as normal, but Honor had physical signs. Her eyes were black instead of white with red irises. When she got angry, her irises _glowed_. This led some of the more ignorant citizens to accuse her of witchcraft. Of course, Johnny knew she was an innocent child, but her strange personality didn't make her easy to defend. He'd seen her do things no _adult_ could do.

She could solve any riddle, calm the craziest hobo, and occasionally, she said the most random things that became real at her words.

It was possible these strange traits were other mutations… She might've possessed the ability to fly or turn into a rain cloud or something, but those traits hadn't surfaced yet. Johnny read that unique mutations developed at puberty. Her body was certainly blossoming, and frankly, he was more concerned about boys.

For the time being, she found boys repulsive. While other girls her age were obsessed with catching a "boyfriend" and fawning over baby-faced stars, Honor was preoccupied with reading and composing music. She seemed to have a different song for every star. Like many artists, she was prone to mood swings and neurotic.

This was yet _another_ reason she had no friends…

But the _real_ reason for her isolation was her parents. Her mother, a barmaid and common criminal, was just a child herself when her daughter was born. She'd put the girl's life in danger more than once. Sometimes Johnny wanted to strangle her, but Belle and her girl wormed into his heart. He stepped into the role of father.

The real father skipped town without ever knowing Belle was pregnant. Some years later, she came into contact with him, but kept the child secret. In the beginning, she didn't tell him because she couldn't find him. Later, she was protecting her child. After he rejected her again, she kept her secret out of spite. But as Honor grew, she started asking questions. Belle would lie, often contradicting herself, and then she kept the secret out of shame.

Johnny urged her to confess. The longer she waited, the worse the situation would be. A child forgives much more quickly than an adult.

She told Johnny the truth…

At eighteen, Belle had been pressured to marry her sweetheart because they were having sex. There was also a political implication that Johnny didn't quite understand. He was vaguely aware that her criminal activities were organized and supported by family, but he purposely remained ignorant. He saw himself as Honor's guardian, and that was his only role in Belle's life. But whether he acknowledged it or not, Honor had indeed been effected by this mafia.

Belle's marriage was controversial. Her brother hated this man, and tried to kill him. Poor, stupid Julien lost his pride and his life; and Belle lost a husband and brother. Seven months later, a premature daughter was born. Belle blamed herself. In her mind, she'd ruined the lives of three people that she cared for deeply.

"You were just a kid, Belle," Johnny had told her. "Honor will understand. She just wants the truth. She _deserves_ to know."

But Belle never made amends, and now that opportunity was lost forever. She died, leaving Honor at the mercy of her greedy relatives and an even more corrupt legal system. Johnny hired a lawyer and fought for the right to locate the biological father.

Remy LeBeau was a difficult man to track. In the last twelve years, he'd left _nothing_ of a paper trail. The most Johnny had to go on was rumors. This man must've had a lot of friends… or a lot of enemies. Johnny's Ford had been all over the country – Baton Rouge, Key West, Seattle, New York, Alaska, and now California. It seemed like they were always one step behind him.

Honor was his biggest help. Like a bloodhound, she possessed otherworldly hunting skills. New York was the closest they'd come to catching him. After an exhaustive interview, a woman named Jean Grey said Remy _had_ been employed at Xavier's school, but was now out of the country. Johnny didn't entirely trust her, but wasn't completely honest about _his_ intentions either. He left a number and a plea to relay the message.

Remy never called.

Two days ago, Honor said he was in California. They loaded back into the truck and across the desert.

Now, as they approached the isolated house, Johnny felt his stomach sink. Two anxious people stood on the porch – a man and a woman, but at this point, they were just silhouettes. A large cloud moved over the sun, casting darkness and a chill.

"No worries, Johnny," Honor said, "He's still here."

Oh, but the worries had just begun…

…

He'd hoped the words would come to him. Hoped he would magically know how to tell this stranger what his own wife couldn't. But the variables were too many.

Johnny and Honor smiled at each other before climbing out of the truck, well aware of the eyes on them. She stayed beside the truck, nonchalantly surveying the house. Johnny approached the couple.

"_Olha_. Johnny Sanchez. Are you Remy LeBeau?"

Belle was right… Johnny could see now that this man had Honor's eyes. He was tall and muscular with shaggy cinnamon hair and a five o'clock shadow. He gave a dangerous vibe, but Johnny remembered how frightful Belle could be. The worst in her came out when she felt threatened. No doubt, Remy was the same way. Johnny didn't trust this man, but he did trust Honor. She seemed to love him as much as she loved her mother, and for Johnny, that was enough.

"_Oui_." Remy answered, "Don't believe you drive all de way from New York wit' out knowin' dat."

"I see _Señora_ Grey was kind enough to relay the message. Afraid I couldn't divulge the details with her – this business is of a sensitive nature. Would you be so kind as to offer us a drink? It's been a long journey and I couldn't find a restaurant for my goddaughter. Miss Honor." He held a hand out to her by way of introduction. She smiled broadly and waved at them.

"That's 'cause there ain't one," the woman said. She was younger than Remy, curvy and tall. Her chin-length chestnut hair had a bleach white streak at the temple, and she had a sweet Tanya Tucker-like accent. She used her green eyes to observe the child for a moment, and then invited them inside.

The guests nervously took a seat while the hosts stood around them.

"Sorry it's so hot in here," the woman said, pouring them iceless water. "Power's gone out."

Honor gulped her water down, sighed contently and asked for a refill. Upon hearing her voice, Remy and his companion stiffened. Did they know?

Johnny cleared his throat. "_Señor_ LeBeau, I regret to inform you that your ex-wife, Bella Donna Boudreaux has passed away. Were you aware?"

"Dere been… rumors."

"She was gunned down eight months ago. As far as the authorities can tell, the incident was gang related. I'm very sorry to tell you this." He tried to sound sympathetic. This prick didn't even realize she was dead. She was no loss to him. "I've been appointed to carry out her Last Will and Testament."

He opened the leather portfolio he'd been carrying for nearly a year now and handed over the proper paperwork. A copy of Belle's Will, her death certificate, and paperwork detailing his inheritance. Remy reviewed the papers, each one like a hit to the gut.

"She bequeathed to you a small fortune, some property, and… your mutual daughter."

No one looked at Johnny anymore.

No one dared to breathe.

Slowly, Honor removed her sunglasses and looked the man in the eye. All her life, she'd been dreaming of this man. She'd spent the last year digging deep within her soul: calling out to his and following its echo. She imagined what he looked like, but meeting him was like watching herself bleed. Shocking. Scary.

He dropped to one knee before her. Now they were eye-level.

"What's your name?" he asked breathlessly.

"Honor." She looked nervously at Johnny, then back to her father. "Honor Julien LeBeau.

"I'm Remy LeBeau. Very pleased to meet you."

She smiled at him. That smile – even more than the eyes – confirmed her paternity. The shadow of doubt in Rogue's mind died along with something less describable.

…

Johnny spent the rest of the day in Valle Soleada. He was kind enough to get the power back, and Honor pressed her flushed face against the air vent. The two of them talked a lot about Belle and their life in New Orleans. Much of the details were old news to Remy, but he'd buffered himself from feeling too much for the people who'd rejected him.

Julien's death… Marius's death… Belle's hopes and struggles, victories and losses… He felt these things anew. Now it meant so much more. It was the loss of an uncle, grandfather, and the mother of his child.

Remy told them about the X-Men and Rogue. Like her father, Honor was a sucker for romance. She propped her chin on her palms and listened without blinking while he told a child-friendly version of his affair with Rogue.

"De first time I saw her, time slowed to a crawl. The sun was shining behind her, and she looked like an angel. Dat's what love at first sight feels like, _chere_. Took a lot longer for _her_ to fall in love wit' _me_."

"Ah thought he was a bull-headed swamp rat who needed to keep his grubby paws to himself," said Rogue.

Honor covered her mouth and giggled.

"Don't hide your smile, sugah. You're so pretty when you smile." She hugged the girl from behind and the two of them smiled at each other. It was a shamelessly sweet moment.

Remy had _never_ seen Rogue initiate physical contact as a bonding tool. Touch was a weapon for her. Many times, she flinched when anyone touched her. He didn't know this yet, but Honor didn't like to be touched, either. Yet she and Rogue were very comfortable with each other.

"When did you fall in love wit' Remy?" asked Honor.

"Well… _pains_ me to admit this, but it wasn't long after we met. Group of us were playing basketball at Xavier's school. Oh, he was all hair and eyes and big arms, and Ah knew Ah was in trouble. Rumor had it he'd taken a shine t' me, but he's a bit of a flirt. Ah was _determined_ not be another notch in his belt."

"De ladies can't resist me, _catin_. Try as she did, she fell for my charms, too. Our first date, I was so nervous - like some squeaky voiced punk who'd never seen a beautiful lady before. Blew it big time, but she agreed to another."

"And another."

"And the fact that you couldn't touch her-" Johnny injected, "_No hay problema_?"

"What can I say, _mon_ _ami_? I live in de danger zone."

The four of them conversed until early morning. Honor listened politely, asking further details about Storm and Logan and the rest of the X-Men. She was less interested in Xavier and _his_ story. At first, she refused to believe a school just for mutants even existed.

"It's true, _catin_," he insisted, "Dey teach science and history, wit' mutations and flyin' control."

"Before today, I'd never even _seen_ another mutant before… And you're telling me dere's a school _full_ of dem?"

"_Oui_."

Her chin trembled and she burst into tears.

…

_Honor speaks_

Even though I was only a child, I was very much aware of how my presence had affected the mood in Valle Soleada. The initial tension faded into repressed rage, regret, shame and sorrow. Adults are a strange and stupid lot. They waste so much energy trying to hide what they think and feel because they worry so much what everyone _else_ thinks and feels. If only they could be honest, they'd discover that they all thought the same things…

What did _I_ think? Honestly, I was beginning to doubt my decision. Now that I'd found my father, all I wanted was to go home. I wanted my mother and the bar and the familiar sights and sounds. I didn't _want_ this new life that closed on me like a trap.

I wished Momma was still alive… or that I'd died with her. Or that Johnny had adopted me. Or that I was older, and wouldn't _need_ a parent. I wanted to curl up and die.

The sun set and Rogue again invited Johnny to stay the night. It had been a long day, she said. I knew what she _wanted_ to say – we need your help. Johnny accepted, and insisted on taking the couch. There was an extra room that I could've shared with him, but he wanted to create the illusion of distance before truly leaving me. Hence, I got the extra room to myself.

I hated it! I hated the smell and look of this tiny old house; hated the narrow hall and high windows; hated the carpet and ceiling fans.

While pretending to change for bed, I crept out the window. The beach was so dark and cold at night. I climbed into the bed of Johnny's truck and sought out my favorite summer constellations. Winter was my favorite time to star-gaze, but I greeted these stars like new friends.

No moon tonight. So dark and cold and empty. The sand reached on forever, tempting me to explore its limits. The night sky encompassed me like a mother's embrace. I could feel the fish and sharks and turtles begin to wake. They sang to me.

The life pulse here was a different pattern than I was accustomed. A noisy, relentless ocean replaced the delicate river. Sand killed most of the grass. The trees were rail-thin and showy and isolated.

Trees are like people, I decided. In New Orleans, people wear their history like Spanish moss. They herd together, and don't care how fat or droopy anyone is. Southern trees are homes to birds and bees and squirrels. Children play in their branches and crave initials into their trunks. These Californian trees had no _soul_.

"Momma," I whispered, grabbing the tiny gold cross at my chest. The love of twelve generations insistently filled my heart. I could almost _touch_ the dearly departed. "Momma, I'm so alone… Please… Please don't leave me. Please give me a sign."

I held my breath and strained with all my senses. Since Momma's passing, I'd said this prayer countless times. Sometimes I even received an answer…Whenever I was alone, I felt her presence. Momma was like a ghost haunting my thoughts. I felt a little guilty for keeping my mother's spirit from crossing over, but I couldn't help it. I _couldn't_ let go.

The front door opened, briefly spreading a block of light across the yard. Remy closed it behind him and lit a cigarette.

I thought maybe he had followed me, but he was surprised to see me. He'd startled me nearly to death!

"Shouldn't go wanderin' off, _petite_," he said, "Even out here, trouble has a way a' findin' you."

He sat beside me so that the smoke blew down wind.

"My cousin and I use to sneak away at nighttime, too. Sometimes we go swimmin' or fishin' in da bayou. He died about your age... Your momma ever tell you that's where we met? _Non_? Well, it was a long time ago."

I kept quiet. This was the first time I'd been alone with this man.

My father.

A stranger, really.

"Everyone got a lot to say," he said after a drag. His eyes were downcast and dark. "Johnny been tellin' me what he wants… and what your momma wanted… 'Course Rogue's gotta have her say, too. You don't say much. What do you want?"

I hugged my knees. "I want my mother."

He opened his mouth to reply, but I continued: "I wish she would've told me de truth 'bout you. I know why she didn't. It was embarrassin', really. She thought she could _pretend_ you away and I wouldn't notice. But I did. Even before I could talk, I remember wonderin' why you weren't around."

It was difficult to find the right words. How could I possibly describe a lifetime of longing? As a child, I had attempted to explain the loss of something I'd never owned. No one understood. They thought I was crazy at best and whinny at worst. Anticipating Remy's rejection, frustration billowed inside me.

A sudden urge to run filled my legs. I slid to the tail gate.

"Honor, please don' run away."

I didn't want to, but I obeyed. Then I burst like a dam: "I use to have dese awful nightmares! Dere was a madman who wanted to hurt me, and dere was no one to protect me! He made me do _terrible_ things, and I was so scared! No one understands what de dreams meant, but _I_ knew! It was you, wasn't it?

"Ain't slept in years now. When I was supposed to be sleepin', I'd sneak out de house. Momma said I must've had a restless old soul, but truth is: I was _lookin'_ for _you_."

He pulled me into a painful embrace. He smelled like cigarettes and salt and… momma?

"I'm sorry, _catin_. Dis ain't what I wanted."

"_Alright, Sally!"_ I struggled against him, "Don't get your mascara on me!"

He smiled at me. His tears had indeed soaked my hair.

"You deserve better. Your momma and I… we're broken. You should've had a clean start, but we broke you, too."

"Ain't been a _bad_ life."

"No, but you deserved _better_. Can't make up for dat now, but I'd like you to stay here wit' me and Rogue. I know what it's like to be incomplete. You and me, I t'ink we need each other."

"I t'ink so, too."

…

Johnny found himself lingering in Valle Soleada for several weeks. There were no rules to guide his behavior and plenty of reasons to stay. Every day he watched Honor bond with this man a little more. Remy explained the missing pieces of her personality. He had given her a love of card games, her stubborn streak, and her strange sense of humor.

Of course, she had bits of Bella, too. Remy told her that the way she covered her mouth, her shy laugh, and her ability to perceive people were all her mother's traits. Johnny had peace knowing this man would honor her memory.

After the house had gone to sleep, he could hear Remy and Rogue whispering late into the night. Johnny would lie awake and wonder what had become of his life. He felt like stranger in his own skin. This wasn't his life. He'd known he could never keep Honor. No matter how much he loved her or how attached she became, he could never replace her parents. She had always belonged to this _other _man. This was the father she'd always wanted.

However, leaving her was the hardest thing he'd ever done. He compared it to sky diving, which – until now – was the most difficult step he'd ever taken. He knew the moment would come. Knew he could do it. But every time he tried to move, he froze.

…

The hottest day of summer ended with a humid night. Rogue made frozen lemonade, and the four of them sat on the porch listening to Johnny play guitar. Unlike good Southern porches, this one only encompassed the front end. It was covered by the roof and sported wind chimes and rails. There was a single rocking chair, but on this particular night, Remy drug out the couch and recliner so they could all sit comfortably.

Somewhere in the distance, the ocean surf provided a soft melody. Remy and Rogue were curled together on the love seat, randomly kissing the other's shoulder, hand or forehead. Honor laid stomach-down on the floor reading a well-worn copy of _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_. Johnny sat on the rail, his back against a column and his feet on the rocking chair while he played. As an entertainer, he knew how to set or change the mood.

Tonight, he played the blues because it reminded them of home.

Johnny's notes reached as far as the porch light. They seemed to have the whole world to themselves. This world, bordered by moonlight and sand, was perfect.

Honor was the only one who spoke between songs. "Dat was de first song I ever heard him play. You remember, Johnny? It was at de Red-Headed Stepchild… Dat's Momma's bar. Gris-Gris had just died, and Momma didn't have anyone else to watch me."

"I'd been working there for a year and didn't even know Belle _had_ a kid! That was Belle, though. An hour late, she walks in with this quiet little rug rat. That was it for me, _mis_ _amigos_. My whole life changed."

"Everyone else was unnerved on account of my eyes. You can tell a lot about people by the way dey look at someone who looks _different_. Some people stared at me; some people couldn't look at me at all. Johnny wasn't shy 'bout askin' 'bout my eyes. Momma said: 'It's 'cause she's a _mutant_. Dat a problem?' and Johnny said: 'She can see all right, can't she?' Momma looked like she'd been sucker-punched. I think it really touched her dat he could be so… kind. But dat's Johnny!"

His throat constricted. "This is the _Dead Song_. We call it that because… Well, I'd had this melody stuck in my head for a year and a half. Kept playing it and playing it, but the words were just out of reach.

"One night after the bar closed, Belle was cleaning and I was playing this song trying to get the words. Finally, she threw down her rag and said: '_Jesu, Johnny_! It's just a _song_! Words go like _dis_!' Sat down beside me, and fifteen minutes later, she worked out the words I couldn't find in a _fifteen months_! We played it for Honor, she was just five or six at the time, and she balled her little red eyes out. Wouldn't tell us why. I haven't played it since, so bare with me."

_We never talked about it,_

_But I hear the blame was mine.  
I'd call you up to say I'm sorry,  
But I wouldn't want to waste your time.  
'Cause I love you, but I can't take anymore.  
There's a look I can't describe in your eyes.  
If we could try like we tried before,  
Would you keep on telling me those lies?_

There seemed no way to make up,  
'Cause it seemed your mind was set.  
And the way you looked it told me,  
It's a look I know I'll never forget.  
You could've come over to my side,  
You could've let me know.  
You could've tried to see the distance between us,  
But it seemed too far for you to go.  
Do you remember?

Through all of my life,  
In spite of all the pain  
You know that people are funny sometimes,  
'Cause they just can't wait to get hurt again.  
Tell me do you remember?

There are things we won't recall,  
And feelings we'll never find.  
It's taken so long to see it,  
'Cause we never seemed to have the time.  
There was always something more important to do,  
More important to say.  
But "I love you" wasn't one of those things,  
And now it's too late.  
Do you remember?

The terribly sad song ended, and no one spoke. Johnny gripped his guitar by the neck so that even the wind couldn't strike a chord. He briskly crossed the porch and shook hands with his hosts.

"_Gracias, señorita_, for your incredible hospitality. For your kindness and charity, I am forever in your debt."

Honor leapt to her feet. "_You're leavin'?"_

"It's time."

"But it's so late," said Rogue.

"I'll miss the sun and traffic by leaving at night. I packed this afternoon."

Remy and Honor helped Johnny carry his bags to the truck. He placed his guitar in the seat where Honor had been sitting all summer. She'd been at his heels like a lost puppy all night, resisting the urge to throw her arms around him and beg him not to leave.

Finally, gathering his strength, he turned to her.

"Remember what we talked about, Honorita. If you're unhappy here – for any reason – you call me. None of this has to be permanent. _Yo comprendo__?_ Once you're settled, write your Grandmother Boudreaux and she'll send the rest of your things."

She nodded, her chin trembling.

"_Ame tu_, Rita."

She swallowed. "Mind de gators, hear? You know how dey love beans."

"Oh, _mi __corazón,_ I won't be returning to the bayou."

How could he? The girls would be everywhere and nowhere. How could he perform at the Red-Headed Stepchild without making eyes at the blond behind the counter? He couldn't go home without passing the playgrounds Honor haunted. What would he do with his Saturday mornings without her cartoons? What would he do in the afternoons besides retrieve her from school? What would he do without the book fairs and recitals and Sunday confessionals?

"But Johnny! Nawlins is your home!"

"_No. Usted es mi casa_."

"_Idem_." She hugged his neck. He smelled her sweet hair and felt her hot tears on his collar. "Where will you go?"

"It's been a long time since I've been this close to Mexico, and I've been thinking a lot about _mi madre_ lately. I'll visit her."

She nodded and reluctantly released him. "_Ame tu_, Johnny."

Honor watched his truck disappear into the dusty horizon. She stood there until her knees hurt. Beyond her reach, Johnny was sobbing in his truck. He would spend the night drinking and sleep in a cheap hotel. She thought about her mother: alone and cold in New Orleans. Everything she'd ever known had been burned and scattered to the wind.

.

_To Be Continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the X-Men and make no money from this piece of fanfiction.

**Chapter Two**

In New York, the school year resumes in September. During the summer months, Xavier's school became stale without the children. One could almost remember that the school was formerly a mansion. The library belonged to a single middle-aged man who enjoyed philosophy and mythology. The laboratory belonged to a scientist with an extensive agenda. The green house was tended by a singular woman. The rooms which served classes and sleeping arrangements were almost forgotten. No one dwelled on the alumnus too often.

The staff generally remained during the off season. Jean was one faculty member who lived on campus. After her marriage to Scott, they moved into the boat house for privacy, but leaving the school had never been considered.

The previous school year had been a difficult one. To summarize: Xavier publicly exposed the school as a facility for young mutants, a mutant-police force monitoring both mutant behavior and the mutant-human relationship, and then left the mess in her hands. (Of course, this Xavier was eventually exposed as an imposture, but the damage had been done.) There was considerable attention on them now, and she didn't always handle it with the grace she should have.

Beneath the school, the X-men were fracturing. Half the team left the country in pursuit of Destiny's Diaries. Most of those members had since returned, but damage had been done by the fracture. Many of the members lost faith in themselves and each other. How could they operate without trust?

With these issues and the complications they spawned, Scott had failed to retrieve his son for his summer visitation.

Jean felt incredibly guilty. Nathan would be a young man soon. He would need his father's support. But Nate and Scott had been on sour terms since the divorce. Maddie certainly didn't help matters. Secretly, the three of them were glad Nate spent the summer in Alaska. But Jean would've preferred to have the two of them bickering.

Then there was this whole mess with Gambit…

In February, a dashing young Mexican came inquiring after him. Jean told this "Johnny" the truth: Remy was out of the country. She lightly probed his mind and discovered his intentions. Gambit stood to inherit a considerable fortune from someone in New Orleans. There was a house… a safety deposit key… and a dozen greedy hands trying to steal these things. Johnny had been fruitlessly searching for him for a very long time.

Jean stopped probing there. She sympathized with this man and wanted to help him. He had such a kind heart, but he wasn't stupid. Not trusting Jean, he didn't _tell_ her about the inheritance. He simply said it was sensitive, urgent business. She could tell he was hiding more, but chose to respect his privacy. If she'd probed further, she would have discovered Gambit's daughter.

When Gambit and the rest of the team returned to the States, he and Rogue were depowered. Of course, Jean told him about Johnny, but Gambit didn't care. Not even the promise of money could lure him into that potential set-up. He and Rogue went on a road trip, and eventually laid down roots in California.

In August, Gambit called the school. He briefly spoke with Logan, who answered the phone.

Jean could hear the stocky Canadian say: "Gumbo! You never call with _good_ news… Yeah, we try to forget about you, too, bub. You two married yet? How're the kids?"

Jean was just one of the X-Men in the room, and they all chuckled at his "joke". Suddenly, Logan's face paled. He was quiet for a long time.

"Omigod!" Jubilee squealed, "Is she _pregnant_?"

Logan impatiently waved her away and covered the speaker. After another long silence, he said. "Yeah, he's here, bub. Just a minute." He transferred the call to Xavier's office and sighed.

"What _happened_?" asked his most enthusiastic pupil. "Oh Wolverine, _tell us_!"

"The Cajun's been breeding… She's coming to school here…" He seemed to think that explanation sufficed, and returned to his football game on the television.

The whole room went silent. Suddenly, Jubilee bolted for Xavier's office. Jean was able to beat her to the conversation thanks to her telepathy.

"…Of course, Gambit, we look forward to your return," the Professor was saying. He was transferring the call again. To Storm.

Good! She was a close friend of his, and he would open up to her much more than he would Xavier.

Ororo was surprised when Jean rushed into her mind like wind through an open window. Then the phone rang, and Jean told her: *_It's Gambit.*_

She hurried to the receiver. "Gambit? Are you all right, child?"

"Uh… 'Course, _chere_, you got no worries wit' me! How you been?"

"Frightfully concerned over the recent excitement. Apparently, my anxiety was unnecessary."

She sighed and sat down, ignoring Jean's presence but allowing her to stay. "To _what_ do I owe the honor of a phone call? You and Rogue seem so _content_ in your corner of the world."

"I ain't got much time left… You alone?"

"Naturally." She waited on the edge of her bed.

"I'm sure everyone's been buzzin' about dis Johnny Mexican who's been after me. _Mais_, he found us. And fancy dis – I don't owe 'm money! Uh… Actually, he brought me someone. I've got a little girl, 'Ro. We're comin' in September, and she's gonna blow everyone away."

"Oh, Gambit… Congratulations, my friend! My heart is filled with joy to know the Goddess has blessed you with a child of your own."

Her eyes filled with tears, and Jean could _feel_ her sincerity. Storm was the X-Man responsible for Gambit joining the team. When they met, Storm was vulnerable and in his care. His unrequited kindness helped form an unconditional love between the pair. Their bond went beyond physical desire, petty needs and any act. So while the rest of the team would hear this news and wonder at all the ways Gambit had failed his child, Storm would only rejoice at the good tidings. Her happiness was contagious, and the women basked in each other's joy as if this child were theirs.

"_Oui_, I always wanted a child who came potty trained."

"Tell me about her."

"Her name's Honor, and she's perfect, Stormy. _Absolutely perfect._ Not at all like me. She's got a heart a' gold - just as sweet and honest as dey come. And she's so smart. Speaks _trois_ tongues. Girl's always got her nose in a book."

"Actually, that sounds a lot like the Gambit I know. Does she look like you?"

"Bits and pieces… If you saw her from a distance, you'd think she looks like Belle, but we've got similar body parts. She's got my teeth, my hands, my ears… We've even got matching scars!" he laughed. "Ain't dat somethin'?"

"I infer your ex-wife is the child's mother," she said. "Children conceived in love are always the happiest. Even though her mind may not know it yet, her spirit remembers."

He became silent.

"Gambit?"

"I don' love Belle. _Especially_ not right now."

"Why not? This is a time for celebration."

"Stormy… Will you marry me?"

She smiled to herself. "I fear our union will be short-lived while you address me by a child's name... Is it Rogue? Has she given into her jealous impulses?"

"_Non_… _Oui_. You know her... I'm so pissed with Belle right now. If she were alive, I'd _kill_ her! But I can't _say_ dat 'cause she _is_ dead, and it upsets 'On. All de times she coulda said somet'ing... Johnny says she just tryin' t' protect her, but de whole damn world was in on it. Jean-Luc and Tante Mattie knew. What's their excuse?"

"Do not let your anger cloud your judgment. I promise you will regret it."

"_Non_, maybe dey were right. I can't keep a _fern_ alive. I wouldn't trust myself wit' a hamster. Why would anyone give me a _bébé_? You've gotta help me. You're de wisest, kindest person I know, and she's gonna need dat. You will help me, won't you, chere?"

"I am deeply touched, Remy. Of course I shall support you; you needn't ask."

She paused.

Jean could sense Storm's anxiety rising, but didn't yet understand the cause of it.

"Gambit, there is something I must say as well. It is difficult, but… I apologize for leaving you in Antarctica."

"_Non_."

"It is one thing to fail a teammate, but quite another to abandon a friend to certain demise."

"Dat wasn' your fault."

"You were my responsibility, and my behavior was abominable. If left to me, your child would be an orphan now. I do not deserve your forgiveness."

"Why you do dis to yourself? Dat's water under de bridge. I gotta go, _chere_. Honor cooked dinner tonight."

"How generous of her. What did she prepare?"

"Smells like Tex-Mex." He paused. "_Merci_, 'Ro. I love you."

"And I love you. Remember to keep the child fed and cleaned until your return."

As Storm hung up, Jean picked up on the slight tension between them. Was this the first time they'd declared affection for each other? Or was it something darker? Envy, perhaps?

_*I had no idea you and Gambit were so close.*_

…

The rumors spread like wildfire. Xavier attempted to defuse the situation by making an announcement the following day. In the morning staff meeting, he admitted that Gambit and Rogue were coming out of retirement. They would serve in non-combative capacities. Post-script: Gambit was bringing his daughter from a former marriage. Xavier didn't know anything about her other than her name. The speculations needed to end. The faculty needed to set the proper example for the students.

X-Men and staff members who'd left _years _ago called without news of their own. Overseas teams dropped by for a visit.

Xavier realized his little family was closer than he appreciated. Jubilee was the first to suggest a "welcoming home" party for Rogue and Gambit, but the idea had been bubbling for some time. Xavier didn't try to stop her.

The students began to trickle in late August. Once the children caught the gossip, it took a decidedly rotten turn.

"_She grew up on a compound in New Orleans. You know, one of those puppy mills for mutant children. I bet she's on the run! That's why she's coming here. For protection."_

"_I heard her mother was a prostitute. She killed her when her powers activated, and the X.S.E. wanted to throw her in prison! Only reason that didn't happen is because Professor Xavier thinks he can __**save**__ her."_

"_I bet it's a shake down! Probably just some girl Gambit hooked up with years ago had a daughter who looks enough like him. Now she's dead and the family's trying to get every penny they can! Oh yeah, he's totally loaded. Why d'you think Rogue keeps going back to him?"_

Children were no less cruel than they had been to Xavier. He decided not to address their petty gossip.

.::.

"They're here! They're here!" Jubilee exclaimed and ran out the front entrance.

Jean glanced out the window and saw Rogue and Gambit return with the convertible they'd left in. In the back seat, sandwiched between two heavy canvas totes, sat a nervous young lady. Her curly blond hair was pulled up, revealing an elegant neck and slender shoulders. Gambit was right. From a distance, she resembled her mother.

But over her tall and delicate frame, she wore a conflicting wardrobe: combat boots, black leggings, a purple sun dress, denim jacket, and large sunglasses.

_Gambit and Belle are inside her, struggling for control, _Jean thought. It would almost be funny if it weren't true.

The three new arrivals grabbed their luggage. Jubilee hugged Gambit's torso, and Jean could immediately sense Rogue's jealousy. But Honor felt… happy? Relieved? It was so difficult to discern emotions in teenagers: they rarely experienced them separately, and there was always the undercurrent of misery.

The future student examined the mansion, ignoring the eyes examining her. Xavier had an impressive facility. The school was certainly superior to any she'd attended in New Orleans.

A string of adults trickled towards them. Unable to wait any longer, the X-Men came to greet Rogue and Gambit.

"Oh, I missed you guys so much!" a teenaged Asian girl exclaimed. Without permission, she threw herself around Honor's father. She merely smiled at Rogue.

Then, she introduced herself: "I'm Jubilee, the youngest X-Woman. You must be Honor. We've been _so_ excited to meet you!"

Despite the age difference, Jubilee was shorter and less developed than Honor.

Before she could respond, another woman greeted them. "Welcome home, my wayward compatriots."

Storm was one of the most beautiful women she'd ever seen. Honor recognized her immediately by her dark skin and thick, white hair. Like Jubilee, this woman embraced Remy but kept a distance from Rogue. Honor felt bad for her. Rogue was being left out. She slid an arm around her friend.

"Don't be nervous, sugah," Rogue told her, misunderstanding her gesture. Honor didn't bother to correct her. She simply rested her head on Rogue's shoulder, and the older woman kissed her hair.

"_Catin_, dis is Ororo Munroe. You can call her Stormy."

"You most certainly _may_ _not_. I am called Storm because of my ability to control the elements. In my homeland, I was considered a goddess, but your father _insists_ in undermining my authority."

When Honor giggled, Storm gently cradled the girl's face. "What a beautiful girl you are… All children are precious, but you are truly blessed. I will be your provider, your comforter and your protector whenever you have need of me."

Honor instantly liked this woman. She was honest and kind without being weak or vulnerable. Even from a distance, she could feel Storm's power. It was a quiet sort of dignity that Honor envied.

"_Merci, _Tante'Ro."

"Why are we standing around the car?" Jubilee said. "Would you like a tour of the school? I could introduce you to the rest of the team."

"Uhm… Sure." She pried herself from her safety net and followed the older, shorter girl into the brick mansion. The outer stairs were cement, but the floor inside was marble. The front lobby greeted her with a majestic grand staircase and crystal chandelier. From there, the building spread out to four different wings, an army-sized kitchen, and a secret basement. Besides the mansion itself, the property sported a boathouse, greenhouse, and three different sports fields.

Honor saw all of these things. Along the way, she met the headmistress, Jean Grey. Ms. Grey was an attractive and well-composed woman with bright red hair and a soft smile. She was polite, but Honor could tell this woman didn't trust her. Unlike Jubilee and Auntie, she only loved the girl for Remy's sake.

Mr. Summers was married to Jean. Like his wife, he was handsome and well-bred, but distant and leery. He was the field leader of the X-Men and Xavier's golden boy. What else did she need to know?

While Honor and Jubilee were traversing the regal hallways, a woman walked right through the wall - and nearly through the girls! Honor could've died of fright. The phaser introduced herself as Kitty Pryde and said she was very happy to meet Honor, but was unfortunately in a hurry.

"You can _walk_ through walls, but you can't _see_ through them?" Jubilee called after her.

In the laboratory, Honor met Dr. Henry McCoy. He was a large, hefty man covered with blue fur. His body resembled a giant gorilla, but his face was more feline. He had narrow, sharpened teeth and yellow cat-like eyes. His appearance was fierce, but his personality kind.

"Gracious, is it so late already?" He said upon realizing he wasn't alone. "Please forgive me, Miss LeBeau." He wiped his hands on his lab coat. "Dr. McCoy."

He extended his enormous hand to shake hers with shocking tenderness.

"Aw! You've inherited your father's piano fingers. You know, it's such a tragedy he never learned to play. With his physical and audio advantages, I believe he would've been a natural. Have you ever tried your hand at music?"

"_Oui_, Dr. McCoy. Actually, I… enjoy it very much."

"Excellent! I've heard you enjoy reading as well. I took the liberty of purchasing a homecoming gift for you." He handed her a small, heavy book. "_The Once and Future King_… A favorite of mine at your age."

"_Merci beaucoup_."

"_Je vous en prie_."

Honor and Jubilee continued their tour past the dorms and onto the football field. A man was setting up paper targets, and greeted them impatiently. "The party's up front, kiddies. Nothin' to do here but _work_."

"Wolverine, would it _kill_ you to be polite? This is Honor: Gambit's little girl. Honor, Logan."

"She ain't so _little_," he said, leaving his targets to inspect her.

It was true: Honor was taller than Jubilee and as tall as - or taller - than Logan. He was built like a bulldog: short and stocky with a big and intimidating personality.

"You scared of me, darlin'?"

"No."

His steely blue eyes bore into hers, and then he laughed as if she'd made a joke. "Everyone here's gonna try to make you somethin' yer not. But I got no problems with you they way you are."

He went back to his work, leaving her very confused.

Jubilee led her away. Once they were out of earshot, she whispered: "For sure, Logan's a little weird, but he's all right. After my parents died, I was basically living on the streets. Logan found me and brought me here. I know he puts on a tough face, but he's really a softie. _Especially_ for that little girl charm."

Luckily, Jubilee loved to talk. She told Honor about the founding members like Warren Worthington (who worked full time as a company CEO) and Bobby Drake (who was currently in San Francisco). She heard about Lorna Dane and Alex Summers and Sam Guthrie.

Near the outskirts of the property, Xavier had placed a statue to memorialize his fallen comrades. It was a beautiful, amber phoenix atop a marble foundation. Every name was carved on a golden template: Allison Blaire…Calvin Rankin…Jean Grey…Joseph Lehnsherr… Elizabeth Braddock… Pitor Rasputin, Illyana Rasputin…

Names.

So many of them.

But they meant nothing to Honor.

"I know your mother just died," Jubilee said quietly. "I lost my mom, too. I don't like to talk about it, but sometimes when I'm feeling lonely, it helps to come here. It's just a quiet place to sit and think."

"It's very nice, but I don't need to visit a graveyard. Momma's with me everywhere I go."

Jubilee's blue, almond shaped eyes misted over and rained out. After that, she didn't speak anymore.

As the pair made their way back to the school, they were intercepted. A tall, dark-skinned man with a grim expression and an 'M'-shaped scar over his right eye had been looking for them. Even from a distance, Honor could see his enormous and solid muscles. Once he spotted them leaving the forest trail, he turned his course. Something about him reminded her of a panther, and she hoped he was friendly.

"Ah, Bish! How nice of you to make introductions. This is the girl we've all been waiting for. Honor, this is our resident paranoia extraordinaire: Bishop."

"Head of Security," he corrected dryly. "No one passes through those gates without a background check. Professor Xavier trusts Gambit's judgment enough to exempt you from protocol-"

"I thought you were over this!" Jubilee interrupted with her usual enthusiasm. "Gambit's our _friend_! Remember?"

"Since she's _undoubtedly_ been debriefed on all of our inner workings, it's not too much to request a few details concerning her. Miss LeBeau, please come with me."

They walked in silence for a while, leaving Jubilee by the tennis court. Once she was out of sight, Honor dared to ask where they were going.

"You're free to go whenever you wish," he answered with his usual shortness. "Your father asked me to rescue you from the pep squad."

"_Merci_!" She briefly considered where she would be left alone. "Do you mind if I stay wit' you?"

…

The afternoon faded into evening and the sun lingered in the summer sky. The school filled with children. Old friends greeted each other with opened arms. New students timidly gathered their books and found their dorms. Xavier felt relieved as his own, personal problems were lost with the day. Watching his X-Men fall into old habits, he felt at peace.

Habits were something Honor would have to learn anew. He pitied her. She adjusted to her new life, swinging from the desire to be accepted to the need for solitude. The staff and most of the students had introduced themselves and moved on. So far, Xavier had left her alone. But he was eager to interview her.

At first, he had been leery of her presence. There were so many unanswered questions that the situation seemed like a conspiracy. But now that he'd taken some time to observe her, he felt foolish for doubting Gambit's judgment. Rogue was right with her assessment: "If she's an imposter, Professor, she's a damn good one."

Honor effortlessly understood the darkest parts of her father. She physically resembled him, to be sure, but Xavier knew those characteristics were genetic. More fascinating was that she had inherited bits of his _personality_. Her morals, her goals, her logic were all parallel to Gambit's. In the seven years that this man had been employed by Xavier, the world's most powerful empath hardly _knew_ him let alone _understood_ him. But this child – an interloper – understood him. How was that possible?

He saw her sneak outside after dinner, and she stayed there until retrieved.

…

Honor was irritated to death with all this attention! She'd finally managed to shake Jubilee, and briefly hid in her father's shadow. He was being _unusually_ social today. Sell-out! So she snuck off to try and find some solitude. Damn near every person here thought it was their _right_ to speak with her _today_. Mostly, people were only willing to be her friend because of her father. Once they discovered she wouldn't abuse her father's power, they turned back to their gossip circles.

Now she understood why her mother had been so overprotective. It was better to have no friends than insincere ones.

One girl here _wasn't_ a leech. In fact, she was kind of cool.

Tessa McNeil was in the grade above Honor, and she didn't have any friends, either. She had black hair with green low-lights and murky blue eyes. She painted her face white and dressed slightly goth, but Honor thought she was much prettier when she smiled.

This time last year, Tessa was just another normal kid in Afghanistan. She'd missed several months of school because the war had moved into her neighborhood. She actually saw a friend blown to bits by a missile. The grief-stricken mother ran through the streets screaming, collecting hand-sized pieces of her slaughtered child. Tess thought that's when her powers activated, but couldn't be certain.

Several months later, she saved Professor Xavier from his imprisonment in a cave. He realized Tessa had no future in her homeland, so he brought her to the States.

"So what kind of powers do you have?" Honor asked her.

"I can heal people with my touch."

"Really? Wow, that's so much cooler than mine."

"Why? What can you do?"

"I can find my father!"

The two of them laughed, and the devil appeared.

"Been lookin' for you all over de place, _catin_!"

Tess told her: "I see that power's one-sided."

They giggled again.

"Papa, this is my new friend, Tessa. Tess, my Pop."

"Hello, Mr. LeBeau."

"Pleasure. Tess, would you give us a minute?"

"Sure." She turned to Honor, "See you around, Pochica."

Gambit took her warm spot on the grass and watched the stars reveal themselves.

"Are we far enough north to see Pegasus?" She asked.

There were fewer stars in New York than in New Orleans.

"Don't know, actually." He lit a cigarette and they sat in silence. Finally, he confessed: "Professor Xavier wants to ask you about your momma's death. Johnny says you ain't ever talked about it, and dat's fine by me. Everybody's got secrets, _chere_. But he t'inks it'll help."

"Guess it can't be avoided forever…"

Honor knew she should've been flattered at the attentions of the legendary Professor Charles Xavier. Papa and Rogue certainly thought the world of him. She didn't really know much about mutant rights or its history, but according to Papa, Xavier was an important figure. He transformed his home into a school, used advanced technology to train and protect mutants and humans, saved countless lives, and helped many people overcome adversity.

Ironically, he was unable to help those closest to him. Xavier himself had lost his son to madness. His best friend was now his greatest threat. Many of the X-Men, including Xavier's golden boy, couldn't control lethal powers.

He had other shortcomings. He was confined to a wheel-chair and bald as a cue ball, but was very educated. His great power as a telepath was his pride, but that pride turned against him. A darkness came out of him, and killed many of the people he once saved. That's why Ms. Grey was now headmistress.

Papa told her not to be afraid of Xavier; he was her friend. Papa said if he'd been dealt Xavier's cards, he would go stark raving mad, too.

The small office was well removed from the activity of the dorms. There was a dark cherry desk, roaring fire place, and large window with heavy curtains drawn shut. Every inch of unused wall was devoted to an impressive personal library. He had volumes on philosophy, genetic mutation, and war history. He didn't have much recreational literature, but one book he did have was _The Once and Future King_.

"This is my personal office," Xavier told her. "Students are not normally permitted here, but I wanted to extend the same courtesy that you have shown me."

He knew the books would distract her and the leather furniture would relax her. He and Gambit sat patiently.

She paced around like a nervous kitten. "You don't need my permission to read my thoughts. Ms. Grey's been poking around all day."

She saw Xavier glance at her father, but they didn't speak.

"That's true," Xavier admitted. "I could rip your mind open and take what I need, but that would be in violation of my principles. Your _trust_ is much more important to me than anything you might know. Do I have your trust?"

"Yes, but… I can't remember. I know I was there when my mother was killed. But when I try to remember, everything in my head stops working. It's just… bits and pieces."

"I want to help you, Honor. Please, take a seat."

She sat beside her father on the leather sofa. They smiled at each other but didn't touch.

"You may close your eyes…" the Professor said. "Take a deep breath. Very good."

*_Honor, can you hear me?*_

*_Oui_.*

Every mind is different, but the basic concept is similar. People cling to familiar settings: assign physical objects to mental triggers. Most people envision a hallway with never-ending doors. Even a simple hallway can reveal many personality traits: the lighting, door ornaments, building material, and decoration are all clues. Some minds are troubled as a stormy sea. Others are as vast as outer space.

Honor's mind reflected her heart. Xavier found himself standing on a river dock. Brown and yellow and orange leaves decorated the trees and drifted along the black water. Behind him, there was a party with everyone she loved… Her mother, father, Rogue, and late relatives all celebrated together. Before him was nothing. The sky and opposite bank were just… blank.

"What happened here?" he asked. She was sitting on the dock beside him, her toes skimming the water's surface.

"Can't know where you're going…" Her voice trailed off.

"What are we doing here?"

"I'm safe here."

"There's a particular memory I'd like to examine - the day your mother was killed. Would you like to show me?"

When she didn't respond, he created a shallow boat.

"How did you do dat?"

"It's been years since I've been in a river boat. Could you remind me how it's used?"

Reluctantly, she boarded. The currents gently pulled them away from the party, into dark and creepy corners of the bayou.

"_Chere_!" Her mother called. "I told you not to go off wit' dat man!"

The currents suddenly stopped, and Xavier could feel her slipping away from him. He realized now that her family represented her sub-conscious, which was only trying to protect her by keeping her ignorant. If he tried to _hurt_ these manifestations, he might destroy her mind entirely.

He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It is all right, Honor. Your mother _wants_ you to share this event with me. She deserves to have her sacrifice remembered. We will face it bravely, as she did."

The small, wooden boat resumed its slow, steady pace. The farther they traveled, the lower the tree branches hung. The air was thick with mosquitoes and wasps. Several times, the boat became stuck in the mud. With a gentle telekinetic push, Xavier got them moving again. She didn't know it, but these were more mental barriers. Her father might've assigned angry and aggressive reptiles to deter Xavier, but a child is considerably more vulnerable.

In the physical world, Honor was in a deep hypnosis. Remy had never seen her like this. Once the Professor entered her mind, her entire body had gone completely limp. Her father kept a hand on her pulse and his eyes on her face.

In her mind, night had fallen.

"Professor, I'm scared."

"Would you like to take my hand?"

While her small, cool hand slipped into his, he focused on his surroundings. Surely, the memory was here. But where? On the bank? In the water? It could even be in a tree top. Then – he heard it.

"Come out already, _chere_!" Belle called.

"No!"

Honor struggled to keep the sun hidden behind the trees. Xavier could see flashes of Belle in the daylight... A red stall door... Honor's boots tossed in a corner.

"Nothin' to fear, _chere_-"

"No!"

Xavier gave a gentle nudge and the memory flooded his senses. It was a cool, autumn afternoon and the girls were in a shopping mall. Belle waited outside, her arms heavy with outfits.

"Come out already, _chere_!" she called.

A miserable Honor complied. "Dis looks _awful_!"

"We ain't leavin' empty-handed. Don't give me dat look! None a' your clothes _fit_ anymore. I won't have you dressin' like a _ragdoll_."

Honor threw herself into the waiting sofa and sulked. "Fat people don't _deserve_ new clothes, Momma!"

"You ain't **fat**, _mon chou_, you becomin' a _belle de jour_."

While speaking, Belle began poking Honor in the ribs. The girl squirmed and fought, eventually overcome in a fit of giggles.

"Done sprung up _trois_ inches dis year! And moody as a cat! Oh, just wait till de cramps and de acne starts! _Oui_, de joys a' puberty."

"Stop it, Momma!" Honor arrested her mother's hands and they smiled at each other.

The store was crowded, but these two didn't mind. Belle didn't care if she embarrassed Honor; Honor didn't care if she kicked someone while playing. Instead, the other customers were forced to move around them.

"We all suffer it, _chere_," said Belle.

"When do m' tits show up? Dey seem to be de only perk to dis _joyous time_."

"Not today, praise _Jesu_. Next outfit!" Belle slapped the girl's bottom as she returned with renewed spirits to the dressing room.

Before Honor could close the door, the entire store jerked to the side. Everyone exchanged curious looks. New Orleans wasn't on a fault line, but it certainly felt like an earthquake… Store clerks began picking up fallen items. Belle checked on her child. Then it happened again. The shift was much more powerful this time, knocking several people off their feet. In the distance, a deep war drum sounded.

"BELLA!" some unseen man cried. "BELLA DONNA!"

Now people were screaming, running. A riot ensued. Encouraged by the chaos, the man kept calling her. Xavier couldn't see the attacker, but this villain was certainly responsible for the explosions, the deep pounding, and the painful screams.

Belle pushed Honor into the dressing room and knelt on the floor with her. With steady eyes and voice, she said: "Remember when you were a little girl, and we played _cacher-faite_? Dis just like dat. I want you to close your eyes and ears as tightly as possible and count to five hundred. No cheatin', hear?"

The lights failed and the fire alarm wailed. Belle never wavered.

"When you done countin', you get your butt home."

Honor was shaking from head to toe. Her face was ghostly pale.

"Momma, I'm so scared!"

"Nothin' to fear, _chere_; just do as you're told."

Then Belle left.

Honor did exactly as she was told. Xavier had to wait in agony as she counted. '…eight… nine… twenty…thirty-six…three hundred and two…' The world was dark. He could occasionally hear the fight, but Honor fought against the sounds. This whole horrible scenario filled her senses like a raging river. She was alone and frightened and trying to pretend this was a dream. At last: '…ninety-nine… five hundred…'

With knocking knees, she pushed her way through the rubble. The entire mall was in ruin. Bodies littered the scene. All was silent except the fire alarm.

Honor made her way out of the store, into the main hallway near the water fountain. It, too, was busted. Water gushed to the side. Near the fountain was a body. Blond hair fanned around a bloody head at an unnatural angle. Belle's pale eyes were frozen open. Her body was still twitching.

"Momma…?" she breathed. "M-Momma?"

"Who do we have here?" a man hollered.

Xavier turned his head to the second level. Five men surrounded Honor from the veranda. Xavier took the opportunity to memorize their faces, but Honor's eyes never left her mother.

"Bella Donna's little bastard! Ha! What a pathetic t'ing!"

"Oh man," said another. "This is bad… She's seen our faces!"

"So we kill her."

"No! We only came for Bella! _She_ had it comin', but dis girl's got nothin' to do with it!"

While the murderers argued amongst themselves, Honor was still frozen. Only her face changed: from disbelief to unvented rage. She was chanting something silently to herself… Xavier tried but couldn't hear. Something in French. Her eyes rolled completely black, and her skin began to spark. Even her hair rose with the energy.

Her would-be executioners didn't notice.

"…_pas la main…You killed my mother_!" Something inside her whispered.

She raised her arms and crossed them at the forearms in an 'X' shape. Xavier noticed her hands emitting a neon blue light and flinched. He recognized what was happening, but the others stood in numb curiosity. She threw a hand over her head, and then brought it back down with all her might, punching the cement with round knuckles. The energy being forced through the floor left visible markings. It literally looked like a giant snake moved underground with supernatural speed and precision.

The "snake" reached the wall supporting the veranda, and circled it. A moment later, the wall detonated. Two men were thrown up and backwards: one impaled by exposed rebar and the other knocked unconscious. Two men fell down with the floor. The last man leapt away from the blast and into a store.

But Honor wasn't satisfied. Charging up again, she strutted toward the men on her floor. They were injured and unarmed. Tilting her head to the right, she called her energy out from the floor. It located an underground pipe, and fired it like a missile. The sharp debris shot through one man's temple and rested in the other's ribs. She grabbed the exposed piece of pipe and detonated it. The man blew in half, splattering his innards all over her un-purchased outfit.

The last man fired and hit her. She collapsed and the world faded away.

.

_To Be Continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own and make no money.

**Chapter Three**

Honor's first days in New York wore on her heart. After Xavier made her recall her mother's death, she felt the pain anew. Almost gleefully, he took his information to the X-Men. No one spoke to her about it. Momma was dead. Honor had killed three, maybe four, men. She had powers and no idea how to use them. How was she supposed to _cope_?

She stopped eating almost entirely and no one noticed… except Tessa. She was failing her classes. The teachers were kind enough to offer additional tutoring, but she really wasn't interested.

"I know your mother just passed away, and it's been very traumatic for you," they would say. "But you need to apply yourself when you show up."

_Maybe I shouldn't even show up,_ she wanted to say.

Ms. Grey frowned at her and Honor mentally kicked herself. She forgot Jean was a telepath.

"Honor…" she sighed and lowered her defenses. "Honey, I've seen your records from your prior school. Your marks were _very_ good. Obviously, your mother was engaged with your education. What do you think she'd say about this score? And you were tested before you joined us here. Even after missing an entire semester, you tested on an eighth grade level. We would have promoted you, but your father didn't think it was appropriate. Is _that_ the problem? Are you _bored_?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

Honor was quiet in body and mind.

"Well, I want you to know my door is always open. You can feel free to speak with any of your instructors."

.::.

She turned twelve September nineteenth. It didn't seem right to celebrate her first birthday without Momma, but Papa took her out to dinner with Rogue and Tess. She got a few gifts, but it was nothing like the huge party with extravagant presents that Momma provided. This was nice, too: a quiet dinner with loved ones.

The conversation was rocky and uneven, with everyone working carefully to maintain their multiple facades: young girls pretending to be young and content, adults pretending to be important, pretending to be concerned. The tension finally broke when Gambit gave Honor her present.

It was her very first gift from him – ever. The tiny box fit comfortably in her hand. It was pink and tied with purple ribbon that sprouted little blue beads. The wrapping was so pretty that she almost didn't want to open it. Inside, a tiny, brass pendant rested on lavender velvet. It was a cross: denser and larger than her conformation cross, but clumsy and darker.

"Dat was de bullet dat killed your momma," he quietly told her. "Had it melted down so dat you could carry it wit' you."

Rogue was appalled.

"If you don' like it, I understand," he said.

Honor unfastened her conformation necklace and added the pendant to the chain. It rested cold and heavy above her heart.

"Now I have one from _both_ my parents."

.::.

On September twentieth, Papa and Tante 'Ro left for a mission. He couldn't say how long he'd be gone or call while he was away.

When Honor found out, she got so angry that she punched a hole in the wall, and covered it with a poster of Steven McQueen. The sprained wrist and bloody knuckles were harder to conceal…

"Oh, kitten!" Dr. McCoy exclaimed. "How on earth did this happen?"

She shrugged and he examined the damage.

"Are you getting into fights?" he asked.

Her red and black eyes bore into his yellow orbs. It was clear she felt no obligation to answer him, so he finished tending her in mutual silence.

.::.

Emotions were so much more intense since Honor came into his life. Gambit _thought_ he use to feel worry and guilt and joy and love before… but now he lived on an entirely different level. Now his heart crippled everything else.

From the moment Johnny confirmed Belle's death, he knew he would return to New Orleans. He would find her assassins and set things right. The fact that Honor had already killed _most_ of them festered in his heart like stagnate water. So she was an Assassin. Belle would be so proud…

He didn't know whether to thank Honor or punish her. Had Belle already trained her how to kill? Or was Honor simply acting out of rage and terror?

Rather than confront those issues, he went home. _This_ was a problem he knew how to solve.

He and Storm took a commercial flight. He had wanted to go alone, but he was vulnerable without his powers. Also, Xavier was no fool. Maybe he didn't completely understand Gambit, but he recognized the desire and opportunity for revenge. Remy had no doubt Storm would try to stop him from seeing this through, but he was resolved. How could she be confused about the course of justice here?

They stayed in a cheap hotel while he dug up old contacts. It had been a few years since they'd worked the New Orleans criminal underground. Loyalties changed. Favors were forgotten. Obviously, those in power had been replaced. There was one person Remy could trust to be unmoved by money and intimidation.

The afternoon was well-aged before the big church doors opened and released the flock. The herd slowly moved across the lawn. Parents gathered their children. Old women gossiped in noisy circles. Most of the congregants were black and over-weight, but Remy was hunting for one chubby old woman in particular.

Tante Mattie waddled away from the crowd, fanning herself. It was late September, but summer here would last another month. She _felt_ him before she saw him. A tall man in a trench coat escorted her into a nearby alley.

"It's about time you came!" She said, returning his embrace. "Your _pére_ expected you at the funeral."

"I'm sorry, Tante. I was out of de country. So what happened?"

She swatted him with her fan. "I ain't gonna do business wit' you in some dark alley like a common whore! You take your Tante for a nice dinner. Maybe dis old woman would like a glass of tea after prayin' for dat poor girl's soul all mornin'!"

He played her game. She wasn't hard to please. And if Jean-Luc had expected him for Belle's funeral, the banishment had clearly been lifted. Speaking of Jean-Luc…

"Where is my father these days?"

"_Out of de country_," she said bitterly, sucking a crawfish.

"Really, Tante-"

"Really! Dat _horrible_ wife a' yours banished him."

"_Quoi?"_

"_Oui_," she nodded seriously. "And after everyt'ing he did for her! Maybe if you called some time, you'd _know_ dese dings."

"But she's… gone. He could return."

"Could, _oui_. But de Guild's moved on. He's made a new life in France: married some girl from Lons-le-Saunier. Only two reasons for him to come back: you an' yer girl. Since you ain't here-"

"So you knew about her, too!"

"Lay off de sauce, _chille_. Everyone knew Bella had your _bébé_!" She saw his face slowly falling and realized she'd said something terribly wrong. "Wait… We talkin' 'bout Honor, _non_?"

"Tante Mattie, _I_ didn't know."

"_Non!_ Belle said… Said she…"

She was very quiet. Remy had never seen his tante look ashamed before.

"She said you couldn't be a proper father, but dat you wanted de girl to be raised in Nawlins… wit' your kin. You were just a pup, cher. Chasin' skirts an' pickin' fights ain't no environment for a _chille_. Can't say I was keen on de idea, but not de first time a man's run out on his youngin'."

"She never told me."

"What about de divorce decree? Dat child's name all over dem papers!"

"If I'm divorced, it's news to me."

"But you _seen_ Belle! Ain't like you never came around… Granted, you never came around to see your Tante Mattie, but I t'ought you was _friends_. How could she _not_ tell you? And your _pére_ was givin' her all dat money! You didn't know 'bout dat, either?"

Deflated, she sat still and quiet.

"_Je suis désolé, chere._ I was so disappointed in you. Couldn't bring it up."

Silence settled between them.

Finally, Remy said: "So what d'you know about Belle's death?"

That perked her up.

"Dat child was always bitin' off more den she could handle! Only a matter a' time, really. She had more enemies den anyone needs. Don't know de motives, but she had bad blood in her own Guild. Some rogue Assassins were supposed to be her _bodyguards_. Dey blew up half de mall to get to her. You be proud, t'ough! She put up one helluva fight. Killed _five_ of dem before dey got her. And kept your girl safe, too."

"_Assassins_ killed their own matriarch?" he asked breathlessly.

She nodded. "I s'pect de Assassins covered up a nasty plot. _Mais_, it just a _hunch_. You know dey never talk t' me like your _pére_ did."

"Why you say dat?"

"Dey too hush-hush. Too many people – Assassins – disappear afterwards. I t'ink dis conspiracy went all de way to de Benefactress, but you not hear dat from Tante Mattie."

"So if my father's exiled… Who's in charge of de Thieves?"

"You remember Francois Daumier?"

"De Texan? Vaguely…"

"He's got _deux_ boys now. One of dem was in Honor's class. Dat's how he met Bella. He was her candidate."

"So she pushed out my father to make room for her puppet?"

"_It was a coup!_ She _trapped_ your Papa, den declared war de T'ieves! Praise de Lawd dere was never bloodshed, but _mercy_! You don't know what a time dat was!"

She began fanning herself again.

"_Everyone_ was scared… Stopped attendin' church an' school. T'ieves _and_ Assassins put de children underground. Belle sent her girl to Mexico. Poor _tite fille_ drank de water and nearly died!

"Daumier said he had no choice but to banish him. Belle's war was with _Jean-Luc_, not de Guild. Your Papa agreed to forfeit his birthright for de sake of de Guilds. Dat horrible – _horrible!_ – femme! She had Daumier in her skirts an' everyone knew it! He's a married man, too! Den he pretends to be some loyal, noble savior. Ha!"

"I'm not interested in your gossip, Tante Mattie."

"Ain't _gossip_, child. Try to connect de points! Belle and Franco both had dreams of uniting de Guilds."

"_We_ tried dat, remember?"

She shook her head impatiently.

"Your marriage to Belle was a _treaty_. Treaties can be broken, just like a marriage. But a child? Dat's more like… Well, like hope. Can't be broken. _Honor_ was de one who united de Guilds."

"How?"

"Let me tell you!"

Tante Mattie was in prime shape now. He could practically see her feathers ruffle.

"Your Papa tried _many_ times to have a relationship wit' dose girls, but Belle wanted nothin' to do wit' him! If she'd just _let_ him, he would've named Honor as his heir. Woulda been perfectly acceptable. 'Fact, people _expected_ dat. Instead, she forced him out, and den wanted Daumier –who got _no_ right to dat child – to make Honor his heir. Why she do dat?"

"Good question."

"I t'ink it was _his_ plan all along. Belle was so young and lonely… All he had to do was be sweet on her. Convinced her he wants Honor to unite de Guilds, and she helps him take over de T'ieves. Dat's what I t'ink!"

Remy chewed over the new information for a few minutes. Tante Mattie finished her seafood and moved on to her corn.

"Who's running de show for Bella?"

"Oh. Pretty young t'ing named Marie-Therese. Started as your girl's sitter and ended up as Belle's second. Dat girl's got _guts_. But she was never Belle's heir. She swears on de Holy Mother dat she's just protecting Honor's legacy, and as soon as she's of age, de child will inherit de Guilds. What you t'ink 'bout dat?"

She suddenly began scrutinizing him – as if he'd written down his thoughts and hidden it on his person.

"I ain't here for de Guilds. I only came to give Belle peace."

"Eat, child."

He picked up a biscuit. "T'ank you for being a good friend."

He felt a little awkward eating while she just sat there and watched.

"Is dere anything else I should know?"

She frowned. "Been so long… I forget what you don't know. Oh yes! De Guild's agreed to a year's truce in Belle's memory. You got till Christmas to leave town. But a'course, dat means you could talk to dem, too. Couldn't nobody refuse you on account a' de past."

A crocked smile tugged on his face. "_Merci_, Tante Mattie."

.::.

While Remy was out running errands, Storm decided to do some work of her own. She left their crummy little hotel room on the outskirts of the city and took a stroll towards the French Quarter. Every step was exactly as Honor had described to her: the discolored street signs, the uneven pavement, and the faces of natives and tourists blended together. Storm would've described the scene much differently than her goddaughter. It wasn't the first time she'd seen the world through a child's eyes.

Thanks to Honor's attention to detail, it wasn't hard to locate Johnny's old apartment. It was hardly more than a room on the second story, and when Storm reached the door, she found an elderly landlady cleaning the apartment.

Storm knocked on the opened door. Inside, she saw that Johnny had left everything behind, and the landlady struggled to throw it all in trash bags.

"Can I help you?" the woman wheezed.

Storm entered. "Hold the bag open. I shall fill it."

She emptied out the small dresser of his neatly folded socks, shirts and jeans. Then she asked: "What happened to the man who lived here?"

"Stopped paying… Out he goes. Should've cleared out his things long ago, but his girlfriend scares me. Someone told me she's dead."

Storm picked up a snap-shot of Belle and Honor that had been tucked into his bathroom mirror. "Is this her?"

The woman nodded.

"And who is the child?"

"She ain't his, if that's what you mean. Look at her. She's too white."

"May I keep this?"

.::.

Honor's behavior turned progressively worse the longer her father was away. She refused food, and it became obvious that she wasn't sleeping, either. In her classes, she was distracted at best and hostile at worst. After a particularly public barb with Professor Xavier, she lost her entire week to detention. A boy made fun of her at lunch, and she punched him in the face. She and Tessa made an unauthorized trip to the Danger Room, which could have caused them serious injury.

Honor was facing expulsion. Professor Xavier and Jean weren't left with many options, and considered placing her under house arrest until Gambit's return. She would be prohibited from attending her classes or communicating with the other students. Leaving her wing without a guardian would be strictly forbidden, and even in her room she would be monitored. This was the harshest punishment within the school's power for non-violent offenders. Jean had been forced to resort to this extreme a few times, but she was loathed to accept it.

She knew the outcome. Gambit would be furious. Honor would forever distrust the X-Men… And she wasn't a bad kid. She was just angry and lonely, and unable to communicate her needs.

Jean felt so guilty about being unable to help her, but with everything that was happening with the school and the X-Men and her own personal life – Honor was another responsibility she simply couldn't take on.

"Stop showing her special treatment," was Scott's advice. "If she were any other student, she'd have been expelled after that _stunt_ with Xavier. You know I'm right! Since her mother's death, she's been allowed to do as she pleases. She doesn't _need_ another chance. What she _needs_ is discipline. We've got to draw the line _here_."

"Any _other_ student would have somewhere else to go," Jean countered. "Where am I going to send her?"

"She's got a godfather and a grandmother. She's not an orphan! You've got such a big heart, love, but you can't be everything to everyone."

"Pardon the interruption," said Hank.

Since they conducted their discussion in the faculty room, he couldn't help but overhear and decided privacy wasn't mandated.

"I, too, have become concerned with Miss LeBeau. When she first began biology and pre-algebra, her grades were extraordinary. I even considered promoting her to next year's curriculum. There can be no denying that her sudden decline is directly related to Gambit's absence.

"However, restricting his activities may cause some resentment between them and be counterproductive. I would like make a proposal. Rather than expelling Miss LeBeau or grounding Gambit, allow me to take her as my student. She and I have a certain understanding. I believe I can reach her."

"Hank, that's too much," Jean answered before Scott could formulate a response. "There's no doubt you care for these kids as much as anyone, but you're a secondary teacher for a reason. The mutant community needs your medical advances more than she needs your guidance."

"I don't believe she would distract me from my work."

"What about Rogue?" Scott asked irritably. "Honor listens to her."

"Honor 'listens to her' because Rogue _spoils_ her," replied Jean. "She's a _friend_, not an authority figure."

"And should Gambit's relationship with Rogue sour," Hank added, "Honor will surely be prone to side with her father. We will find ourselves in this same predicament at a later date. I shall take her as my aide. That should eliminate the pretense of special treatment, and reduce concerns over my ability to mentor a troubled child and conduct my research."

Jean could have denied him, but he seemed so determined. She had no better alternative.

.::.

Gambit wasn't prone to wallowing in bouts of guilt and self-pity. Unlike his poor little girl, he wasn't the victim of relentless hormones and tragedy. But his conversation with Tante Mattie left him feeling… _rotten_. With several hours of down time, he found a bottle of liquid comfort. Nothing better than drinking alone.

He was too restless, and decided to take that bottle to all the places it was taking him.

New Orleans was his home. Everything about this city – from the spicy foods to the soulful music to the decrepit roads no one would repair because they had "history" – it all spoke to him. Beyond the beautiful distractions of the city lay the bayou where he'd grown up.

The water was high this year. He'd seen that black water as high as the steep banks and as low as a trickle. During the rainy summers, he and his cousins would toss their t-shirts on the grass and go for a swim. They would invite school girls, but the girls were too proud. Well, all of them but one…

His fifteenth summer, Bella Donna took them up on their invite. She wore jean cut-offs and a pink bikini top that tied around the neck and across the back. She rode a tire swing tied to an ancient oak tree and jumped into the black river.

That swing was still here…

"I'm gonna marry dat girl one day," Remy told his cousin Etienne, thoroughly impressed with her bravery. They had no idea how right he was.

He passed a dead-end dirt road. Benderson Lane. Someone had put up a sign since he'd last been here. Had it always had a name? At the end of the road was an abandoned house that had been lost to the overgrowth since his childhood. Urban legend said a man had been killed in that house, and it was haunted. Remy didn't know the truth, but he knew it was a safe place to hide. No one ever went back there.

Well… _Almost_ no one. After Belle's grandfather forbade them to see each other, they'd sneak away to Benderson Lane. Remy _hated_ that house. It smelled. It made strange noises. It was always dark. He always felt the eyes of the dead man's ghost: watching them nervously make love. Once, right in the middle of the act, something upstairs fell over. Without so much as a good-bye, Remy grabbed his clothes and ran out.

The only visible sign of that house was a rusted-over mail-box. He and Belle use to leave each other love letters in that mail-box. That's how they got caught. That was the beginning of the end…

Farther down the road was a lane where he knew the name. This was Belle's childhood home, and the old Assassins Guild headquarters. They use to play _cacher-faite_ in this overgrown yard. That was the porch they sat on in the evenings. The first time he was ever invited onto that porch was after Belle's father died. She was only eight years old, and Remy had come with his father to pay their respects.

He hated crowds – especially crowds that involved feuding clans – and was trying to sneak away. He stumbled upon a sobbing little girl. She looked up at him. They'd met once before; when Remy thought he was saving her life. Little did _he_ know this girl could handle herself. But this time, she needed him.

"Don't be sad," Remy had said, not knowing what else to say. "Come on, let's go play."

"I don't feel much like playing… Could you sit with me?"

He obliged her, and distracted her with some card tricks.

The second story window on the far right led to her bedroom. How many times had he crept into that window? Her grandfather had it barred and painted shut. But where there's a will, there's a way. The last time he used it, Bella had not been the one waiting on him… Imagine his surprise to greet his father and Marius. They'd been planning a marriage all evening.

Remy and Belle were _told_, as if they were outsiders to the situation, that they would be married in the spring. He celebrated his eighteenth birthday in December; and she, hers in February. They married in March: he couldn't remember the exact day.

He stopped his mind from replaying the rest of that story.

The house was abandoned now. He crossed the porch and entered the front door. The entire building was covered in dust. Furniture was covered in white sheets. Some pieces had obviously been moved, leaving clean shadows behind. He wondered if they'd been stolen…

Pictures of Honor at all ages smiled on the wall. Some of them had been stolen, too. No pictures of Belle or Johnny. There was a single shot of Marius as the patriarch: he was surrounded by his living children and grandchildren. His descendants were all grown and married. Only Belle stood alone, big-belly pregnant and no shame. She smiled, but it was a defensive smile. He could tell she'd been fighting with her kin all day prior to that picture. Undoubtedly, they wanted her to hide until the murderer's bastard was born. That wasn't Belle's style.

He stumbled upstairs through the darkness.

Belle had taken the master bedroom. Most of her dresses her gone from the closet, but her perfume was still faint in the air. He nearly choked. Her bed was still here, and made as if waiting for an occupant. He couldn't believe it, but it was the same bed she'd had as a teenager.

They'd broken that bed. Obviously, it was old and weak when she got it, but breaking it had been their doom. Despite her best efforts, her old man eventually discovered the evidence and worked out the crime. Belle said he'd been shaking with rage when he sent for Jean-Luc. He locked her in Julien's room, but Belle could hear the ensuring argument between the old man and his wife. It was Vivien – not Marius or Jean-Luc – who wanted the marriage.

Remy knew that underneath the bed was a secret compartment where Belle use to keep his love letters. Out of narcissism or curiosity, he opened that compartment now. No love letters. But there were some common important documents: the deed to the Red-Headed Stepchild, her marriage license and divorce papers… Sure enough, Honor's name was all over it. He was divorced on grounds of abandonment five years ago… He thumbed through the treaty voided by his divorce, and an unborn treaty to which Honor was the key.

There were other things that didn't make sense to him: pictures of a couple drinking coffee, a different man exiting a car, and another man was reading the paper.

Who were these people? It didn't make – _Rogue_!

He held a picture of Rogue riding a horse in Central Park. By her hair style, he could date the picture to Cody's death five years ago.

The picture started to tremble.

These people had "wronged" Belle in some way, and she was determined to settle the score. She had someone follow Rogue, photograph her, and learn her habits with the intentions of harming her. Worse, the X-Men never knew about it. When Belle couldn't kill Rogue to get back at _him_, she killed Rogue's old boyfriend instead. He had been comatose since activating her powers, but targeting him had nearly destroyed Rogue.

His love for Belle turned to poison. Burning, blinding rage coursed through his veins. Not for the first time, he swore to revive and kill her.

"Don't tell me you _love_ her," said a voice in a devilish purr.

He jumped with embarrassing vigor and discovered he wasn't alone.

"You've always had bad timing, _chere_, but _this_?" A beautiful woman leaned casually against the door frame. "Getting drunk and crying over old memories… Bella would roll in her grave if she knew."

"Colette?"

"Welcome home, lover." She embraced him, but he tensed. Her arms were like crowbars. "Not much of a home to come back to, is there?"

"How'd you get in here?"

"Same way you did, I reckon. Or are you still climbin' through the window?"

"Don't play coy, _chere_; it don't suit you. Why'd you sneak in? You followin' me?"

"Sorry. Did I startle you? You know me, I'm like a ninja!"

She sat on Belle's bed and he had the sudden urge to push her off. She was a whore desecrating Belle's altar. But she was right about her "ninja" abilities, and he didn't need a fight while intoxicated and powerless. Collette was a cousin of Belle, and granddaughter of Marius. She failed her initiation many years ago, losing the chance to become an Assassin. She could've had Belle's life in more ways than one…

Collette was also the first girl he'd chosen to be intimate with. Well, sort of… They'd parted on good terms, and being with her now revived his body. But his mind knew better.

"What're you doin' here?" he asked.

"Dodgy, much? I could ask you the same! Who do you think you are? Disappearing for years at a time… Then showin' up for no reason and actin' as if you got some _right_ to this place. Belle stopped meanin' much to you a long time ago… But to us…? She was the backbone of this whole damn town. Hell, she was the heart and the brain, too. You know they still light candles at her grave? I'm sorry I never got a chance to tell her how much I… And now she's gone. Sometimes I just come here to remember. I can still _feel_ her here."

"If she was so popular, why's she six feet under?"

"Belle had a way of makin' friends, you know that."

She smiled slyly and slid off the bed. Stretching comfortably along the floor, she whispered: "I hear you've done real well for yourself. You got a girl up North waitin' on you?"

"Yeah. And I ain't gonna gamble _her_ on de likes a' _you_."

"Yes you are… Wanna know why? We're so good together, baby. No one's ever given it to me the way you could."

"Cole… We were sick. You gotta know dat by now."

"And I've got what you want." She sat on his lap and whispered in his ear. "Belle's assassins."

He quickly decided to shift direction, and threw on his thickest charm. "I wish I had treated you better, _chere_. You've always been taken for granted. I know that's not what you want-"

"Sing me another one, snake charmer. You're really not as clever as you _think_ you are."

The back of his hand collided with her jaw. She spilled on the floor, laughing. "Damn, lover, shouldn't we have a safety word first?"

He straddled her and gripped her neck. "Shut up!"

"How about 'Rogue'? Doesn't she keep you in line?... Why so shocked? I _do_ hear things."

He lifted her head and slammed it back on the floor.

"Shut up! You don't get to say her name! Don't even _t'ink_ it!"

He twisted a handful of her thick, inky locks and painfully pulled her across the room. Throwing her against a dead water heater, he jerked his belt off before his mind could stop him. He tied her hands above her head and ripped her shirt off.

"I want names. _Now_."

"Stephen Cotillard, Alexis Martinez, Able Durant… Those are the ones who were killed protectin' your wife and child. Antony Shabino… Trevor Dubois… Those are the ones your girl slaughtered."

"No, she killed _three_," he corrected without pause. He thought about Rogue when she slept, and the way her body curved against his bed.

"No," Collette chuckled. "If she _had_ killed Marcus Morel, the _real_ assassins would've gotten away, and three honest men would be buried as traitors…"

So Tante Mattie was right: the Assassins were concealing a conspiracy. If someone was after her crown, Honor would be their next target.

His skin chilled. "_What else do you know_?"

"Nuh-huh. Pay up, lover."

He hit her twice more and then tore off her pants. It wasn't really the pain that turned her on; it was the _fear_. He showed her no consideration before gripping her hair and forcing himself on her, but she was shaking and hot with desire.

"Tell me what you know or I'll make you bleed!" He growled.

"Marcus said it was the little one – Honor – who killed Tony and Trevor. He swore it to God, but no one believed him until the other two confirmed it. Fuckers thought they got away… The Assassins had them tortured and killed, too. I never heard them say it, though. I don't think _anyone_ ever heard them say it except for Marie-Therese, and she's in charge now."

.::.

Where on the goddess's good earth was Gambit?

Ororo sat alone at a bar in the French Quarter. She didn't need a watch to know the night was very old. He'd missed their meeting time by several hours. Certainly, the man could take care of himself, but they had an arrangement! It was disrespectful to leave her waiting… Especially when she was the only sober person in this… _establishment_.

No, she never was one to over indulge in the barley and rye. One bottle of beer had been her sole companion all night, and was making her sick. Why couldn't the Assassins have chosen an ice-cream parlor or book store as their cover?

The atmosphere at the Red-Headed Stepchild echoed of a funeral parlor. Above the bar was a portrait of Bella Donna with a rosary and burning white candles across the shelf. Repeat patrons sat close to the bartender and reminisced about Bella and "that blues beaner Sanchez". Invariably, they would begin with jokes and happy stories, and end with the tragedy of Honor growing up without her mother.

The barkeep, a pretty young woman they called "Marie-Therese", tried in vain to keep their spirits high. Then she saw them to the door and sent them with a message: "Tell Betty we say hello" or "Take a cab, Sammy, you're an easy mark for pick-pockets tonight."

Ororo was about to sneak out after them when Marie-Therese slid her a small glass of club soda. "Notice you've been nursin' dat beer all night, _chere_. If you ain't one for liquor, we serve soda, too."

"Thank you." She drank the soda to buy herself time. She was unaware she'd been watched and it unnerved her.

"Sorry he stood you up."

"Pardon?"

"Seen a lot a' pretty ladies get stood up in my bar. It's a shame. Been dere myself a few times. My advice: don't wait around on him."

"Do I look like the sort of woman who _waits_ for a _man_?"

She laughed loudly. "I like you, _chere_. Marie-Therese."

"Ororo." They shook hands.

"Ororo… Dat's pretty." Marie-Therese leaned over the counter, letting her plunging neckline dip a little further. Her eyes darkened the way Gambit's did when he saw a beautiful woman or priceless jewel. "African, _non_? Not South African… Maybe Kenyan?"

"Your perception is infallible. How did you know?"

"In my profession, you've gotta keep your wits about you. Could be a matter a' life and death."

"Truly, I had no idea _bartending_ could be so dangerous."

"I was bein' truthful earlier when I said I like you, Rory, so I'm gonna level with you. Dat drink? Laced with cyanide. Figure you've got about ninety seconds before it takes hold. If you want de antidote, you better tell me why you've come into _my_ town lookin' for _my_ girl. And who sent you into _my_ bar?"

Storm felt her head begin to swim. She jumped to her feet, but the life force threatened to leave her body. She collapsed on the floor and lost consciousness.

.::.

When Storm emerged from her dangerous ordeal, she found her new predicament worse. They'd moved her to the basement: no windows and only one exit. She was bound to a chair and nearly blinded by the glaring overhead light. With limited vision, she thought she saw three people in the room. The poison was still in her system, causing nausea, dizziness and disorientation. She would pass out again any moment…

"'Bout time, 'Ro," Marie-Therese said, "Your tolerance is so low, I might've saved the good stuff and dropped you with some whiskey." Some men chuckled and the young woman lowered her face to Storm's. "Now how 'bout dat song, _non_? First, you tell me who sent you. Candra? De Antiquary? Thought he would've learned his lesson _last_ time."

"Marie, please… This has been… a terrible understanding…"

"Who sent you?"

"Charles Xavier… He is her teacher and… mentor. He loves the girl… as do I… I came with… her father… to make sure she is safe…"

"Someone in dis town's got loose lips. Who you been talkin' wit'?"

"No one… We just arrived… last night… Gambit – Remy – has spoken with… his aunt, but-"

Breathing was difficult. Storm would die without treatment. She was certain she could get some more information; especially if Marie was determined to kill her. But she needed help. Soon.

Ororo threw her head back and breathed deeply, but the air leaked from her lungs. She used her powers to multiply the oxygen in the room. Before long, her captors realized something was amiss.

"Told you she's a mutie! What's she doing to us?"

"No! Wait! 'Ro? Focus, _chere_. What's Xavier want with our girl? De truth now."

"I gave you the truth… We came to determine… the threat to Honor… posed by her mother's assassins."

"My, my, my. Had no idea Xavier was in de business of _retribution_." Marie-Therese slowly walked into the darkness. "Might've needed his help nine months ago, but now he's just a vulture pickin' over de bones… And he ain't de first. De Guilds take care of their own. LeBeau knows dat. I don't believe he sent _you_ to tie up his loose ends… If he did, I would be bound to aid you. I _do_ believe you work for Xavier, but unfortunately for you, he's no friend to de Guild."

Ororo's sixth sense told her the danger of this situation was climaxing. She called on the oxygen and energy in the air to awaken. The oxygen spiked, giving her a boost of energy; and the air curled into a strong breeze, which lifted her out of her prison and carried her high above the roof tops.

The city looked like a toy-set from this height. The lights jumped, the buildings trembled, the streets grew larger and then faded from view. She barely made it to the hotel room.

Blowing into the room like a hurricane, she was glad to hear Gambit in the shower. She stumbled in the bath room and collapsed on the floor. Her sight had failed entirely. Her throat constricted painfully. On another plane, she was aware of steam blowing over her. She heard the shower curtain jerk to one side, and felt him carry her to the bed.

"Hold on, _chere_… Hold on."

He left her on the bed.

"What was it? A shot? A drink?"

"Cyanide," she provided. Marie's generosity and her own attentiveness saved her life.

"A Guild favorite," he said quietly as a needle pierced her skin. No time for a disinfectant. Slowly, air filled her lungs again. Her pounding headache subsided. Dark corners of the room came into the light.

"Better?" He was stroking her hand like a mother.

"Yes, thank you, my friend. I am relieved." She laughed at him and took her hand back. "Gambit, please cover yourself before one of your jealous sweethearts finds us in this amorous scenario."

"Dis all a ruse, _non_? You wanna catch me wit' my pants down, all dis not necessary, 'Ro. I ain't a modest man."

While he dried and dressed, she diverted her eyes to a corner of the room. Her mind was still returning in pieces. Almost accidentally, she observed his clothes on the floor.

"Gambit…? Child, why ever are your garments covered in blood?"

His face darkened. "Sorry. Meant to have dat outta here before you showed up. No worries. As you can see, I'm fit as a stud."

"Dear goddess, please tell me it is not true!"

"I'm sorry dey hurt you, 'Ro. I came across an old friend who was happy to talk. If I'd thought of her sooner, we could've avoided de Guild altogether."

"Explain yourself!"

"De Assassins turned on dere matriarch. And dey know _Belle_ didn't kill those goons."

"Then your child… She is in grave danger! But who would stand to gain by slaughtering a young mother and her child?"

He gave a humorless laugh. "Dere's a lot you don't know, _chere_. De Guilds follow a very old story, says de white devil wit' red eyes leads dem into a perfect world… Dat prophecy been de cause of everyt'ing in my life in Nawlins. After I left, dey thought all hope was lost, but den dere was Honor.

"_Everyone_ wanted her. It was too much for Belle. To her, everyone was trying to take away her child, and dat's enough to make anyone crazy. De Assassins didn't wanna take orders from a nut anymore."

"Yes, Marie alluded to that."

"Marie-Therese?"

"The same. Are you acquainted with her?"

"No. She's de new leader of de Assassins. Is she as beautiful as everyone says?"

"She said Xavier is no friend to the Guild – that is very clear in my memory. She also mentioned The Antiquary…? She said it had attempted to capture Honor before, and suffered due consequences. I do not know this name. Is it another Guild?"

"No, it's a man. Or what's left of one. He's a pedophile and child slave trader."

"Merciful Mother…"

"What else?"

"I _did_ try to reason with her in your name. She did not believe I was your partner. Otherwise, she was bound by oath to protect me. She thought my words false because your actions showed lack of faith in her abilities to… As she said: 'Take care of her own'. Gambit, what else have you failed to tell me?"

"Stormy," he sighed, "There's a lot I don' know, either. De Assassins been all locked up."

"That name is not appropriate for a goddess," she said absently. "What about your father?"

"Belle banished him. He's been in France for three years. Even re-married. Couldn't be bothered to _write_."

"I am sorry for your betrayal, my friend. Marie implied she disposed of the assassins. Was she-"

"She did."

Storm was visibly irritated. "Then there is no reason to further detain our stay! Once more, the vermin quarrel amongst themselves!"

"Dey really unnerved you, _non_?" He put his arms around her, but she kept him at a distance. "Don't resist. I know you want me." She laughed, and – unarmed – relaxed against him.

"Wait! The blood-!"

"No worries, _chere_; she never used the safety word."

"I know how you cherish your provocative sense of humor, but- Oh no, you are _not_ joking."

She punched his well-defined shoulder.

"What was dat for?"

"The Goddess _wills_ it." She punched him again.

.

_To Be Continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**Chapter Four**

Friday morning, Dr. McCoy informed Honor she would be his aide indefinitely. Most of the other teachers had student assistants, but those "assistants" were more like protégés. Honor didn't consider herself an understudy to Dr. McCoy, and luckily, he didn't treat her as one. Instead, he kept her after school to help grade papers and set up a lab experiment. That weekend, he took her to a scientific conference in the city.

The stuffiness of it all bored her to tears. To make amends, he took her to lunch and then Central Park. The restaurant served Midwestern staples like horseshoe sandwiches. While eating, Dr. McCoy told her about his life before the X-Men.

He grew up in a rather stereotypical American setting. His father worked in a nuclear power plant, and his mother was a substitute teacher. Dr. McCoy attended Illinois University on a football scholarship. Soon after, his blue appearance took hold, and he turned his mind to scientific matters. He wanted to know why mutants were mutants. He told such a good story that she didn't even mind the lack of romance.

The weather was lovely that particular day. Summer had broken its fever, but fall hadn't quite arrived. The park was full of people horse riding or dog walking or chess playing… and they all stared at Dr. McCoy. He was either accustomed to this or completely oblivious.

Honor didn't feel comfortable in such crowded quarters, and hung onto Dr. McCoy's massive arm for security.

"We must be quite a sight!" she told him after a passing bicyclist looked back at them.

He laughed and patted her hand. "It is typical of an inquisitive mind to investigate the unusual. I try to remember the futility of taking offense to what is merely our base instinct."

"Yeah… I just wear shades. But I'm glad you don't hide who you are. Back in Nawlins, people use to tease me on account a' my eyes. Now dat I _live_ with mutants, people make fun of de way I talk… or dress… or my friends. Momma always said you can't please anyone if you're hieving' everyone."

"Actually, since you've mentioned it, I once employed the use of a disguise mechanism. It was extremely painful, and rather ridiculous in retrospect. But since I've learned to accept myself as I am, I've found others much more willing to do the same.

"From _my_ point of view, you are a lovely young lady with charm and intellect and humor. I hope you would never withdraw those talents from the world because of an eye color abnormality."

"Aw, shucks…" She blushed. "Can we get an ice-cream before we head back?"

"If your young pallet craves a sweet fixture, I know a place that serves the best tiramisu you're likely to find in this great city. Shall we, my dear?"

"We shall!"

Sunday night, a moving van arrived. Mrs. Boudreaux had sent Honor's things unannounced. The students generously helped her unload her antique furniture, and boxes of books and clothes and stuffed animals… There was a surprise in the back. A piano.

Honor burst into tears at the sight of it.

"Dat was de Old Man's piano," she explained, wiping her face with her sleeve. "He taught me to play on dat piano… After he died, Momma asked Grandmother for it. I was de only one who ever gonna play it, anyways. Grandmother Boudreaux said I was hievin' but a hieving' bastard, and she'd sooner break my fingers than heard me play again. And if Momma tried to _take_ it, dat just what she gonna do!"

"Gawd, sugah!" said Rogue. "I thought _my_ folks were nasty."

After all her things were put away, she played scales on the piano. Of course, there wasn't room for it in her bedroom. It seemed inappropriate to put it in the music classroom. That class already had a piano, anyway. Xavier allowed her to keep it in the lounge, although it seemed grossly out of place.

Like the rest of the school, the lounge was regal. The floor was a deep, polished mahogany with Persian rugs to keep bare feet warm. The furniture followed Xavier's uniform black leather, but held up miraculously well under so many children. Portraits of past Xaviers silently watched the residents gather around a fireplace large enough to hold six grown men. This room should've held a grand piano… And this was _not_ a grand piano; it wasn't even a baby grand.

"De Old Man only learned to play in his old age," Honor said apologetically as she tuned the instrument. "Just like I thought… hasn't been _touched_ since he died."

On the sofa by the window, Ms. Grey was grading papers and Mr. Summers was working on a new scenario for the Danger Room. They draped around each other intimately, seemingly unaware of the others' presence. Dr. McCoy helped Honor adjust the pitches. Behind them, Rogue and Tessa sat quietly because… Well, they were there because Honor was.

"He went blind about de time I was born," she said to no one in particular. "But he was a very clever man… Always busy. He bought dis and taught himself to play by ear. Momma said my first steps were walkin' to him at dis bench. She was gonna take me away 'cause de Old Man didn't always like little children, but he sat me beside him and taught me to play. We were two peas in a pod!"

Finally, she took a seat. Tessa sat beside her on the narrow bench and teased: "You've done nothing but brag about your musical prowess. I expect to be thoroughly impressed."

The first notes rang out, and Tessa was not disappointed. The song was spellbinding and breath-taking and otherworldly…

From the corner, Jean stirred from her trance. She didn't know the song Honor was playing, but it was a complex classical piece. The music was hauntingly beautiful: heavy and tantalizing.

*And she's playing from _memory_.* Scott thought, either to himself or Jean, but she heard him. *Amazing. She hasn't played in several months now… She's memorized that song and probably a dozen others, but _somehow_ she can't remember her lessons…?*

*I was expecting something melancholy like Beethoven.* Jean replied. *This reminds me of the year's first snow, how beautiful and peaceful it is. Look at Hank and Rogue – smiling! This is so unlike Honor…*

*Maybe it's just not like the Honor we know.*

They shared an understanding that didn't require words or conscious thought. Deep in their united spirit, they knew that all children were the same. Kids were like puzzles: some with more pieces than others, some with different faces, but all the same. To understand a child, you needed to put all the pieces together. Even with this understanding, Honor remained elusive. She seemed to lack the "childish" element. But when she played, she revealed pieces of herself that her teachers had always seen in her peers. Now they realized she wasn't incomplete… She wasn't broken. She had just been forced to grow up too soon.

The music rose in passion, relaxed, and sang on pitches so glorious that it brought the soul to orgasm. Towards the finale, her long and delicate fingers flew like fairies over the high notes. Jean could have wept. Then the room burst into scattered applause. Hank actually leapt to his feet.

Honor turned and nodded. "_Merci, merci_…"

"_The Devil's Trill_ by Giuseppe Tartini," Hank provided. "Some liberties taken concerning the tempo, but I should have expected nothing less from _La Diablita Blanc_."

Honor giggled, covering her mouth as she always did.

.::.

It was getting harder to keep Storm in the dark. Immediately after the Guild's assault, she had been frightened and prepared to leave. In a vulnerable state, she'd been easy to manipulate… Now she was questioning his alibis.

Also, Gambit was homesick. He missed his own bed with its clean sheets and familiar smell. He missed Rogue. Storm was a great friend, but she was no Rogue. He missed his kitchen. He missed his _tite fille_. Oh yes, he was ready to return to New York just as much as his companion.

But he wasn't satisfied just knowing Belle's murderers had been eliminated. The story had too many loose ends. Why hadn't Marie made an example of the betrayers? It was too much to believe five men had turned on Belle and walked into daylight, guns blazing to slaughter her over hurt pride. What had Marie promised them in exchange for their services? Why did she turn on them? And why was the Guild turning a blind eye?

Despite Tante Mattie's suggestion to confront the Guilds directly, he clung to the underbelly of the underground. People could lie, but rumors were reliable.

Monday afternoon, he decided to pay a visit to Franco Daumier's boy. His youngest was Honor's age, and not difficult to spot. Even though Remy could barely remember Franco, he recognized his son as if he were the father. Vaughn had his father's long, pointed nose and broad shoulders. The boy had hair the color of wheat fields and matching eyes. His skin had been sunned all summer, and was speckled with brown freckles.

Honor said homeless vagabonds often begged the school children for their empty soda cans, so Remy took this disguise. With a shopping cart and tattered wool jacket, he easily approached the chain-link fence holding the children. Students tossed their cans over the top, or crushed and slid them through. He thanked them in French.

Vaughn came to the fence alone and tossed his can over. He had already walked away when Remy said: "Congratulations to your father's promotion."

The young boy turned slowly. "What the _hell_ did you say, old man?"

In the distance, a teacher shouted: "Hey! We've told you before not to bother these kids! Now get goin' or we'll call de police!"

Remy turned to leave when Vaughn ran up to the fence. "Get back here, _deadbeat_! I ain't done wit' you! Yeah, dat's right… I know who you are, too." Vaughn motioned for him to approach, and once he obliged, continued: "Kinda stupid to wear glasses. Only draws attention to your eyes. A girl wit' those eyes use to come to dis school. I got somethin' for her… Come back tomorrow."

"Vaughn! Get away from dat man!" The teacher was running towards them.

"Tomorrow. After school," Remy said and walked away.

The following afternoon, young Daumier kept his word. Remy was circling the school in his rented vehicle when he spotted Vaughn walking the sidewalk. This time, Remy studied him. He had noticed a certain fashion theme among the playground yesterday. In a word: eighties. Unlike his _tite fille_, the kids sported bright sneakers, tight jeans, and unnecessary vests. Honor must've stuck out like a crawfish among shrimp, and it made him proud.

Vaughn didn't dress like the other children, either. His wardrobe was the standard "good ol' boy" variety: baseball cap, tattered jeans, and a John Deere t-shirt. He was tall for his age, with a body built for fighting. He kicked the ground as he walked and kept his hands in his pockets.

"Offer you a ride home?"

"No way am I gettin' in dat car wit' you! You could be a _pervert_ for all I know!"

Remy parked the car and walked with him. "So where do you live?"

"_Ha!_ Like I'm gonna tell you! You must think I'm _real_ stupid." He looked around. "Look, let's keep dis short. I could get in a world a' trouble for talkin' wit' you."

"Why? We're both Thieves."

Vaughn opened his book bag and pulled out a brown paper bag. "Dis is for Honor. You see dat she gets it. And tell her… Tell her I'm real sorry for everything. Dis school just ain't the same wit'out her."

Remy wanted to ask for details, but didn't press his luck. He'd ask Honor about it later. Peaking into the bag, he saw rosary, which he placed in his jacket pocket. "Who doesn't want you talkin' to me?"

"You and I ain't friends, so don't small talk me. You doin' me a favor… So whatchya want from me?"

"Mercy LeBeau. Where can I find her?"

"I can arrange a meeting."

"No, thanks, _homme_. Just tell me where she frequents."

"She goes to St. Michael's every Sunday and Wednesday to light a candle for her dead husband. If you're lookin' for her tonight, I'd try Antoine's… Or de cemetery. She's so damn morbid. Guess it runs in de family, huh?"

Given a choice between the two, Remy staked out Antoine's. The dinner rush came and went, and the lights turned down. Midnight. No sign of Mercy. In desperation, he made a quick trip to the grave yard. Vaughn made reference to the LeBeau fascination with death, but it was not a family trait Remy inherited. He hadn't lost a spouse or parent like Mercy and Honor. If he had, maybe he would haunt graveyards and pray to the dead, too. But right now, these sorts of things gave him the creeps.

There was a figure over Henri's grave. Damn.

He figured the Guild would choose the graveyard as their meeting place, but he was none too thrilled about it. At least Mercy had the decency to use _herself_ as bait.

Remy drug his feet, so she would not be alarmed when he spoke.

"_Belle-sceur_?"

"Remy!" She could hardly contain her excitement.

They kissed cheeks and then she embraced him. Mercy was old enough to be his mother, but didn't look older than twenty-five. And that wasn't empty flattery. Thanks to the Elixir of Longevity, she retained her youth and strength. She was tall and beautiful, just like Belle. Her thick golden locks had taken a brassy sheen, but otherwise she was exactly as he remembered: narrow face, high cheek bones, and full lips. Tonight she wore a deep red dress that accented all of her generous curves.

"Oh, it's so good to see you! So much has changed around here… I hardly know where I fit in anymore."

"Maybe you should go into retirement like my father."

"You should have come to me first, brother…" Figures emerged from the shadows, but she wasn't surprised. "I would've told you everything."

He ignored the strangers in Thieves colors as they surrounded him.

"You didn't tell me about Honor," he spat at her.

"What _about_ her?"

"Anything! Tell me, did Belle _pay_ my brother to keep his mouth shut? Or did he buy into her lies like everyone else? And why de _hell_ didn't my father drag me back after he found out? It would've been de right thing to do!"

"Right by _you_! Not right by de Guilds!"

"Could we _please_ save this sparing match for another time?" Franco said smugly and crossed his arms. He hadn't aged in at least a decade, so Remy knew he was good at his profession. But otherwise, there was nothing striking about this man… He wasn't terribly handsome or fascinating or powerful… What did Belle see in him?

"You're right," answered Remy, "Wastin' my efforts on de wrong Thief."

"You abandoned your wife to de wolves… visit every three or four years to tell her what she's doin' wrong… Never bothered wit' de Guild _you left her wit'_. Now you come sneakin' into _my_ town, harassin' _my_ boy. You're de worst sort of coward!

"You think Belle's girl gives you a right to be here? Honor doesn't belong to you. Never has. Dat girl is Guild through and through."

"And when Belle and her girl outlived their purpose," Remy said, "de Guild's free to cut 'm down."

Franco made a move, but Mercy placed herself between the men and the situation defused. Then she said to Remy: "We loved Belle… And Honor. We would have given our lives to protect them. Don't stand on her grave and blaspheme your kin. Come on, let's get a drink."

Mercy and half the Thieves Guild escorted him to the Red-Headed Stepchild. Ever vigilant, the Assassins were aware of their arrival and greeted them in the street. A dozen men and half as many women lined opposing sides of the road: the Thieves in red or pink, the Assassins in black. Remy was sure the tension would cut right through their truce.

Franco and Marie-Therese kissed cheeks.

"Why you bring your army to my doorstep, Frank?"

"No army, _chere_. Allow me to introduce Remy LeBeau: heir to Jean-Luc and father to Bella's heir. Remy, Marie-Therese: matriarch to de Assassins. She's a worthy adversary and even more valuable ally."

Her beauty wasn't done justice by the rumors and flattery. Marie was shorter than Jubilee with a waist small enough to fit in a grown man's hands. She had mocha skin, silky black hair and eyes that lit up at the sight of Remy. Quickly, she covered her excitement.

"I know who he is. Let's take this inside before someone calls de police."

The bar was spacious as far as bars are concerned, and Remy recognized the décor as Belle's right away. Small oak tables, suede seats, and adjustable lighting… Over the bar was a picture of Belle that was surrounded with burning candles and white flowers.

The score criminals casually sat or stood around the room. Silence again permeated the air. All eyes rested patiently on Remy.

"First things first…" Marie sighed. "In agreement with the truce signed this past Christmas, the Assassins are unarmed."

"Likewise," said Franco.

They both looked to Remy.

"Armed?" he blinked, "_Should_ I be?"

"Will you submit to a search? Wait, you don't know dis man," she said to her premature body guards, "Will you submit?"

He raised his arms and two men carefully patted his sides and checked his coat pockets. Car keys, cigarettes - he'd forgotten about the rosary.

"_Stolen goods_!" In a flash, the tension erupted. The bravado and friendly faces were dropped as everyone began arresting or defending Remy. What a time to be powerless! And Storm had no idea where he was!

"No – Vaughn –!" he shouted to Marie, "Vaughn asked me to deliver it to Honor!"

She threw her arms out to the side. Magically, Assassins flew to one side of the room, and Thieves to the other. As they collected themselves, she approached him.

"You show us honor by restraining your powers. Belle told me you were hot-headed and quick to fight. She also told me how powerful you are… You could blow us all to kingdom come." She threw a nasty look to Franco. "What you say is true… You _couldn't_ know and _wouldn't_ care, heathen. But dat rosary belonged to _Bella Donna_. It was in my possession until last night.

"Daumier's boy was never a friend to your girl. He's a spoiled bully. But after Belle's death, he experienced something close to guilt… Maybe for the first time in his life. Everyone knew how tore up he was about what he'd done. So he did what Thieves do best. Thievin' is both de sin and de penance, ain't it?"

"I'm sorry, Marie-Therese," Franco said, "I'll deal wit' it."

Her black eyes bore into Remy's. "That just leaves you an' me." She paused. "Keep it. But you deliver good on your word."

"If we're all done with de pleasantries now, who'd like to tell me what my wife's assassins said?"

Marie smirked and tilted her head. "Why?"

"'Cause I'm sure de devil heard it, too, and when I get to hell, I'll need a way to find 'm."

She laughed boldly. "_Belle was right!_ You _can_ charm the scales off a snake! And I think she'd want you to know the truth, so I'll tell you. I've heard tell dat _you_ wanted her dead."

"_Moi?"_

She nodded with a knowing smile. "But now you come int' my bar askin' questions, which means you're very stupid or very brave. You're a little of _both_, aren't you?"

"_Oui, mademoiselle_. Too stupid to figure out who'd say I wanted Belle dead. How 'bout a clue?"

Marie looked from Remy to Franco, and back to Remy. Settling herself behind the bar, she poured two glasses of Cognac. She took one and gave him the other, but he didn't drink.

"Those traitors were pretty fuckin' stupid, too," she said, crossing her arms. "They took money from a man they'd never met. Swore to go along wit' de scheme. Coulda been _Belle_ for all dey knew! Shoulda skipped town afterwards, but dey stuck around waitin' like dogs for a treat. When Marcus didn't die, we caught de other two. But _none_ of them knew who signed their checks."

"De most powerful _femme_ in Nawlins," said Remy, "And you couldn't find a bank?"

"We followed de money, but it was a dead end. Trust me, we tried _every_ resource. If dis was _your_ Guild, would you want that gettin' out? Belle had too many enemies to count, but one with that kinda protection must've been after de Guild. But dey never made a move for it. _Oui_, I've been questioned. All de sacrifices I've made to get this far, and now I've gotta prove myself all over again! If I wanted Bella Donna dead, I had better opportunities than that. For God's sake, I _slept_ in her _house_!

"But you? You've got the money. You've got the motive-"

"We split up a long time ago." Remy interrupted." Dat hatchet's been buried."

"She hid your child from you."

"She _raised_ m' child _for_ me."

Marie looked at him for a long time. She was like a snake poised to strike a mouse, but she never did.

"I don't know you, LeBeau," she finally said. "I know all _about_ you, though. I don't know how you felt about Bella Donna, or what you think about her now. Even though she swore she hated you, I know she took her love for you to the grave. So I'm gonna tell you something. Collette Boudreaux came t' me last night, sayin' she seen you. She said she heard you and your pretty African friend talkin' about a conspiracy, and when you seen she was there, you beat her nearly to death and told her to keep quiet. I saw her marks. …Now would I be wrong in thinkin' she sent you after me wit' de same tale?"

He didn't know what Collette stood to gain by Belle's death, but if she tried to turn Remy and Marie against each other, she could only expect one result. She was waiting for one to kill the other, leaving the Guild and Honor more vulnerable.

The hounds of hell pulled at their leashes, and a burning joy filled Remy's soul. Xavier whispered in his right ear that murder was never justified, but his heart screamed with every pulse – _kill, kill, kill_.

.::.

Tessa tore violently from her sleep. It was storming outside, but that shouldn't have disturbed her. She'd lived through worse things than _storms_. She was wondering if she had been ripped from a forgotten nightmare when she saw the cause of her distress.

"Sorry," Honor whispered, already sitting on the foot of her bed. "Couldn't sleep."

"Is it Gambit?" Tessa whispered back.

They had to keep their voices down to avoid waking Tessa's roommate, Bethany Burbins. Mostly, the roommates tolerated each other. In direct conversation, Bethany's unforgiving views on religion conflicted with Tessa's unforgiving views, but they had learned to side step the topic.

"Yeah… Can I stay with you tonight?"

Tess tried to make room for her on the single-sized mattress. They ended up curled together, with Honor's arms wrapped around Tess's waist. For the first time in their lives, they felt _safe_… But rather than giving silence glory, Honor said: "Geez, your breath stinks."

"It's called _halitosis_. Bodily gases have been trapped inside my mouth with no relief. And it's _still_ not as bad as yours."

They giggled and quieted down again before Tess whispered: "Is he all right, Pochica?"

Honor buried her face in Tess's green and black hair. "Oh, Sage. He's done terrible things… And he's not done yet."

Honor shut her eyes as tightly as she could, but the image was vivid before her.

.::.

_The Assassins had beaten Collette nearly to death. She could no longer walk. It was a miracle she could still speak. She could lift her arms in self-defense, but both hands were completely broken and deformed. When she pleaded, she looked around as if she could still see through those swollen, bloody orbs. Her eyes were no longer visible. All the while, Remy stood in the back and watched silently._

_He had lured her to Benderson Lane like a fly to a spider's web. First, Marie went dark. No one knew where she was or how to contact her. For safety's sake, Remy agreed to form a psychic link, so she could locate him in case of urgency. While rumors circulated about Marie's disappearance, he asked around for Collette. Eventually, she agreed to meet him again at the old house where he and Belle use to meet. It was at Benderson Lane that he "confessed" to killing Marie, and claimed to seek leadership of the Guild again._

_Almost immediately, she turned on him. She called him foolish for removing someone who wanted to protect Honor. She said it was the same trap Bella Donna had fallen into: pushing away Jean-Luc and Henri, and dozens of others. She crushed their hopes and discarded their efforts so frequently that they almost agreed to kill her for nothing._

_Remy attacked her: hell-bent on killing Collette himself, but the mental excitement alerted Marie. The Assassins showed up, and due to the treaty in Belle's memory, he couldn't finish the job._

_But Marie could._

_Collette realized she'd been set up. She tried to run, but never escaped the room. Then she played innocent._

_Marie unsheathed the three-foot sword strapped to her hips, and commenced with the breaking of bones and spilling of blood. The situation quickly escaladed. The other Assassins displayed their great skill in breaking the body while preserving the life… Severing muscles and tendons, piercing fatally near vital organs, slicing the tenderest areas of skin. They were masters of torture as well as death, just as Thieves were masters at deception as well as burglary._

_Collette threw herself at Remy's feet. "I'm sorry!" she cried, "I'm sorry! Please! Please help me!"_

"_Did you spare Belle?" Marie hollered, dragging her away. "This is the code, Collette! In every society in history! Blood for blood! Flesh for flesh! An eye for an eye!" She straddled her victim and dug her thumbs into her puffy eyes. "Did you really expect mercy from your executioners!"_

_Collette emitted a soul-piercing scream, drowning out Marie's voice._

_Remy knew he could have stopped this. He could have __tried__. He could even have walked away. Once again, he found himself guilty as an accessory. But this time, unlike the Morlock Massacre, he didn't behave as an X-Man. This time… he relished in it._

_As Marie promised, Collette lived to see once last dawn. The human body can suffer through so much. She passed out many times, only to re-awaken in the same nightmare. When death finally came… Oh, the glory of it. The end came for her like the finale of a long, terrible movie. There was no satisfaction. Remy hoped when she arrived in Hell, she would tell the devil of her sufferings. Satan himself would shutter to hear the horrors of humanity._

.::.

Ororo was drinking coffee in the hotel lobby when he returned. She was livid.

Did she know?

"I been terribly selfish, 'Ro," he said. "And for dat, I owe you an apology. I just… been so torn up about Belle - 'bout everything. Been stallin', but dat ain't right. I got a _tite fille_ at home who's just as torn up as me, and I gotta help her."

"I am glad to hear you have finally come to your senses. Tell me, if I had not accompanied you on this trip, would you have remained indefinitely?"

"No! 'Course not! Tempting, though…"

"Then no more delays. Pack your things at once, and I inform our proprietor of our _joyous_ departure."

.

_To Be Continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the X-Men.

**Chapter Five**

Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was like other schools in many ways. There were students – obviously – ranging in age from eleven to eighteen. There were a few variable cases, but those instances were unique. For Honor's year, Professor Xavier taught philosophy; Ms. Grey taught history; Ms. Frost taught English; Dr. McCoy had the math and science classes; and Logan held mutations control. Mutations control was divided into levels, depending on abilities and age. The two youngest classes, including Honor and Tessa's, all practiced together. Mostly, they focused on calling out their powers on cue and harnessing them. The freshmen and sophomores had obstacle courses and games to help sharpen their gifts. The juniors and seniors had the option of combative training.

Once a student became a freshman, they were assigned to a team. There were dozens of teams – the Omega Gang, the Alpha Squad, and the Moonlighters to name a few. Just like with any team, there was a fair amount of politicking, and it was mostly influenced by relationships. _All_ of them prided themselves on being the "toughest" with the "most powerful" players. That repulsed Honor. She wanted to work on a team where everyone got along… She wanted to work _smarter_ not _harder_… She wanted to spend less time out-foxing the opposition, and more time befriending them. Where was _that_ team?

Even though she was still years away from being chosen, the teams had already noticed her. She was not favored because of her skill on the field - _that_ much was certain! No, this was because of her father. "Gambita" was sure to have some hidden powers. If not, at least they could glean special favor from the instructors by association.

Sometimes, she got so angry with the whole situation that she would blow up half the field.

It was during her afternoons in M.C. that Honor met Uri Kobowski. He was in Tess's class, but the two weren't friends until Honor introduced them. Poor Uri was one of those obvious mutants. He was enormous in all directions and had tough, green skin and yellow eyes. The black hair on top of his head did nothing but curl. Like all young teenagers, he was incredibly awkward with his body, but his personality more than made up for it.

Even before he came to Xavier Academy, Uri was a popular kid. He'd do anything for a friend and _nearly_ anything for a stranger. He enjoyed making other people laugh, and because Honor enjoyed laughing, the pair got along famously.

Some people gossiped that Uri had a crush on her, but she never saw that. They were just good friends.

Over all, she was doing much better in _everything_ since Papa and Tante 'Ro returned from New Orleans. She was sorry she couldn't go with him. She would've liked to visit with everyone again… Marie-Therese and Tante Mattie and Mercy… But Papa was right. It wasn't the same without Momma.

He gave her Momma's rosary, and said Vaughn had stolen it for her. Since it was sacrilegious to wear it as jewelry, she'd taken to wearing it around her waist. It should have reminded her of Momma, but it didn't.

When she wore it, she secretly thought of Vaughn.

He had never been kind to her before. He used to push her down, pull her hair, and call her names… One time, he and his brother André threw her in an abandoned well and dropped a caterpillar's nest on her head. She panicked and scaled that wall so quickly she might have been flying! She'd never been so angry. All she could compare it to was when Momma died. Blinded by rage, she chased those boys down and beat them senseless. Andre lost a tooth, and Vaughn broke his nose.

That was the incident that brought Momma to Franco.

Honor didn't think about what might've been if the Daumier boys hadn't tried to drown her. It was enough to know those moments existed. Tiny, forgettable details can shape lives.

Holding the cool beads now, she didn't hate Vaughn. His single act of redemption meant more to her than all the kindness in the world.

.::.

Honor had barely regained herself when Xavier and his _goonies_ plotted against her again. Jean wanted to conduct a psionic investigation. Unlike Xavier's probe, Jean wouldn't be dealing with memories or feelings. She only needed to know how Honor had been able to track her father.

"I must confess, I've been very curious about you," Jean said as they sat in her office. As headmistress, this room had the stink of a hundred juvenile delinquents. "It's unusual that a student with possible psychic abilities comes into my school without any sort of examination. It's not that I'm nosy… But how would we know where to place you?"

"Unusual is my middle name."

Ms. Grey was clearing her desk. Honor sat quietly on the bench by the window. Looking around the room, she noted that Ms. Grey had fewer books than Professor Xavier. Different topics, too, but still an impressive collection. Jean also had more photos, and more recent photos than Xavier.

"Why don't you have any pictures of Mr. Summers?"

"Hum? Oh, I never noticed. He doesn't appreciate having his picture taken."

"Who's dis?"

Honor pointed to a boy about eight years old. He was missing his two front teeth, but had a beautiful face. He had brown hair with white streaks in the front, like Rogue. In this image, he was hiking with Jean. Snowy mountains lined the background like a prop.

"That's my stepson, Nate. He's not much older than you. He lives in Alaska with his mother. That's her with him."

"Oh! I thought dat was you. Why doesn't he come to school here?"

"For the same reason you're not in the eighth grade." Jean smiled strangely.

"Fathers can be so meddlesome."

"All right, dear, not sure how you'll feel about this, but you're _not_ psychic."

"You did de test already? Dat fast?"

"It's like listening to music; doesn't take long to identify. Since you're not upset, I'll let you know that you're not empathic, either. You're very sensitive and insightful… But those are personality traits, not mutations. I'm afraid the school doesn't offer classes based on character."

"So may I be excused?"

"Not so quickly. I'll need to report to Gambit, and schedule the two of you for testing. Hank should be able to resolve your little anonymity."

Honor threw her black backpack over her shoulder and left. Tess was waiting for her at the door, but they walked the entire length of the hallway before speaking. They knew Ms. Grey was powerful enough to read their thoughts no matter the distance, but it helped to hide among the populace. Without a reason, she wouldn't eavesdrop.

"I don't _believe_ she ran any tests," said Tess shortly. "Did you tell her about the dreams?"

"Hush! What would I say? 'Late at night, I have seizures and see Papa playing pirate'?"

"Absolutely."

"They'd kick us _both_ out!"

"You're trying to protect your father. I suppose on some level, that's admirable. But he'd perfectly capable of protecting himself. You need to maintain _yourself_, Pochica. Do you know what could happen if the seizures got bad enough?"

"I can control dem."

"For now. But how much longer before Dr. McCoy notices his Diazepam supply has mysterious vanished? If he catches you stealing needles, he'll think you're a junkie. You'll be expelled for _sure_."

"You're a precog now?"

They passed the cafeteria, which was busy with the dinner rush. No one noticed them exit the front doors and head towards the football field. It would be abandoned tonight, and they could speak freely. Privacy was a rare treat.

"I know you think you're helping Gambit, but maybe it would help him _more_ if you spoke up." Tess spoke again as they reached the bleachers. "Maybe – _just maybe_ – if he knew you saw his thoughts, he'd _change_ them."

Originally, they had planned to sit. But out on the field, Logan had half-finished an obstacle course. He had left, either for the night or supper. Honor couldn't resist doing a handstand on the waist-high wall. She'd never taken gymnastics, but always had a talent for it.

"I see London! I see France!" Tessa teased.

Actually, Honor was wearing leggings, but her tiny skirt had flipped over her ribs. Momma's rosary rested underneath her modest bust. She placed one hand in front of the other and "walked" away. If she'd put much thought into this activity, she would've pulled her hair up first.

"You're strong… for a girl. I could never do that."

Honor sprung off the wall, her face flushed. "No, I'm not. It's all in de _balance_, Sage."

"Hey, check this out!" Tess had picked up a strange sword. It appeared heavy, but she maneuvered it with ease. "When do we get to use _this_?"

Honor grabbed a matching weapon and pointed it. "On guard!"

Tess smiled and twirled it mindlessly. "Let's say we wager. You Cajuns are all for a little gamble."

"What'd you have in mind?"

"I win, you tell Ms. Grey about the dreams. You win, I'll steal your needles for you."

Honor dropped the sword. "Those bombs must've scrambled your brain! One, I wouldn't tell Ms. Grey about de dreams if my _life_ depended on it! Two, I'm much better at pinchin' den you! I got de opportunity, too!" She paused and thought. "How 'bout… If I win, you drop dis whole thing! You win… I'll tell Dr. McCoy about de seizures."

"Deal."

Tess was quick. She dove as soon as she had the word. Honor had barely lifted her defense, and never made up for the loss. Tess has the advantage and never let it go. Metal clang so loudly that they expected the staff to come charging on the field and send them to detention. No one came. They had the world to themselves. Soon, Honor's sword was knocked from her hand.

"You lose," Tess reminded her. "You have to tell Dr. McCoy about your nightly spells. And I wish you'd tell your father about the dreams – even if you don't tell anyone else. I know he'd at least try to help you."

"I told Momma about dem… She told me I'd dreamed it all up. De visions, de seizures… All of it. But I'm not crazy! I can see dat man's face clear as day! I remember everything, _chere_. He had black nails and demon eyes and a red diamond on his forehead. His voice is de most terrifying thing you've ever heard."

"I believe you, baby girl. I believe you."

They had to rush back to their rooms because the front doors were locked at eight. As they faded into the night, Logan emerged and cleaned up their mess.

.::.

Honor didn't have to wait long to keep her word. She had dinner with Papa and Rogue in their room, and afterwards Hank called them into the laboratory. Honor and her father were extremely uncomfortable, but Hank was very patient. He made the tests into a card game.

First, Honor was blindfolded and Rogue was shown various cards. She concentrated on the number and suit, and Honor tried to pick up on her thoughts. They tried this five times before Hank could confirm a negative result. Next, Rogue and Honor switched places. Rogue tested negative as well. Then, Rogue and Papa tested negative. Finally, Honor was blindfolded and Gambit was shown a random set.

"Three of hearts… Jack of spades… Five of diamonds…" She went through the entire deck _twice_ without error. Dr. McCoy even tried to trick her by turning one of the cards around so she _couldn't_ have known what it was. Although she couldn't deduce his game at the time, she knew something was amiss. He was very impressed with her results.

Papa failed to read her thoughts.

"Fascinating," Dr. McCoy said as he put away his tools. "I believe I can formulate a theory to explain Honor's ability, but I need to conduct some more tests before being so bold-"

Honor burst into tears.

"Oh, not tonight, dear! We needn't even return to the lab if it makes you so miserable."

"Dr. McCoy, I have to tell you something…"

"Yes?"

"I don't know how I know these things. I mean, I don't hear or see anything. I just _know_ it."

"Don't fret, kitten. I know this is entirely new and frightening to you, but you are not alone. The X-Men and I will help you find an answer."

"Sometimes, when… Could we speak in private?"

Papa and Rogue were surprised and a little hurt, but they complied. Dr. McCoy must've realized how sensitive her confession was. He kneeled before her, his massive body condensed, and his yellow eyes peering over his glasses.

"Sometimes," she started again, "…when Papa's really scared or angry, I can _see_ things. Things that I somehow know, but de way is clear. I can see it."

"What do you see, my dear?"

"It's a secret," she whispered. "But when dat happens, my whole body gets funny. I get short of breath. I forget who I am, and where I'm at. I shake like I'm being electrocuted, but I don't feel like I am. Most times, I can hold on through it-"

"What do you mean? 'Hold on through it'?"

"I can keep still and remember to breathe. But it's been getting worse. I… I stole your Diazepam for de really bad times. I'm sorry." She looked at the hands clasped in her lap.

He sighed heavily through his lion-like nose, the cool air blowing her hair. "Who administered the medication? Miss McNeil. Who else? Miss LeBeau, that was extremely dangerous. You should have spoken earlier-"

"I did!" She cried. "I told Momma about it, and she told me I was being silly! But I'm not crazy!"

"No, no, of course not. You should have spoken _to me_ earlier. I'd like to keep you overnight for observations-"

"NO!" She screamed and began sobbing. Papa burst in and swept her up. "I wanna go home!" she cried into his collar, "Papa, take me home!"

Dr. McCoy told Papa everything, and then insisted that she stay overnight. Papa stayed with her, but he was in the foulest of moods. She'd never seen him this way. He sat stiffly all night. If she spoke to him, he snapped at her to get some sleep. His eyes avoided hers. Spiritually, he was completely cut off. He had never shut her out like this before.

.::.

Upstairs, Jean and Logan were searching Honor's room. Her roommate, Julie Johannaman, stood in the hall nervously. The investigating X-Men didn't know how much time they had, and hurried to sort through books, homework assignments, personal projects and handwritten songs. Meanwhile, Storm and Scott searched Tessa's room.

This mission was underhanded and dirty, and they knew it. But experience proved that Gambit wouldn't confess unless _forced_, and Honor stated earlier that evening she would face expulsion and even death to protect him. She was just as stubborn as her father. Jean had scanned Honor's mind earlier that day, and established that the girl had no _firsthand_ knowledge of his sins.

She knew something terrible… However, a child's mind was complicated. Jean couldn't determine if the memories were dreams or visions or simple imagination. She sent Gambit, Rogue and Honor to Hank, and gathered a team to investigate.

Bethany Burbins had been first to raise the alarm. She came forward with information concerning Honor and Tess. She said Honor spent the night with Tess, and said her father had done "terrible things" to her. Jean knew things weren't as Bethany perceived them, but she also knew Bethany told the truth. What was Honor hiding?

"Here, Red," said Logan.

In the trashcan, torn into tiny pieces, was a note. Logan had pieced it back together, and Jean recognized Honor and Tessa's scripts. It was filled front and back.

"This is it," Jean said after a quick read. "My god…It's true."

Honor didn't sleep very well that night. When she woke up the next morning, Dr. McCoy was speaking with Papa in the hall. She got up and went to them. Mr. Summers and Logan were there, too. All four men turned and looked at her.

"Don't you have a class to get to?" Mr. Summers snapped.

Too frightened to disobey, she headed for the mansion. Tess caught her in the hallway.

"Oh, Pochica!" She embraced her friend, "Did they tell you?"

"No, but I know _something_ happened!"

"That _bitch_ Bethany! She's going around telling everyone that your father raped you, and you and I are lesbian lovers."

"What?"

"Xavier's lackeys raided our rooms last night! They found a note in your bin, and took my diary. Julie told me all about it at breakfast."

"Sage… I feel faint…"

"Not here. These harpies will never let you live it down." Tess helped her to the bathroom. The bell for first period rang, but Honor just washed her face and tried to think.

"We have to get out of here," the younger girl concluded.

"Where are we going to go?"

"Nawlins. They'll protect us dere."

"It's the first place your father will look."

"Doesn't matter. De X-Men are no match for de Guilds. It'll be great, Tess! No school… No more hiding… We can have our own rooms again. I can't wait for you to meet everyone!"

"We require funds. I suggest bus fare."

"I know how to get some money. Don't worry 'bout dat. Grab anything you can't live without and meet me on de corner."

.::.

The X-Men assembled in the War Room to confront Gambit. Undoubtedly, he would view this as an assault, but Scott had forewarned him of the evidence. This would be a trial, not an ambush. However, before things could even begin, the alarm sounded and they were called away.

Today, a local human rights' organization was conducting a "mutant pride" parade. A portion of downtown closed to accommodate them, but this was New York. Parade, protests and riots were the norm. The police were on hand, but everything seemed to remain civil.

That changed in an instant.

Reports said a spectator was infected with the Legacy Virus, and was rushing to contaminate the crowd. Naturally, a stampede ensued. S.W.A.T. was containing the area, but mutants were literally fighting for their lives. To remain in quarantine was certain death. It was only a matter of time before they overran the control units and spread the Virus.

Meanwhile, Nightcrawler told Professor Xavier that Tessa skipped first period. He quickly checked with Emma. No, Honor didn't attend first period. She assumed the girl was still confined on doctor's orders. Three minutes later, they didn't show for second period, either. The school locked down.

Using Cerebra, Xavier found the girls at a bus station downtown. They were wearing disguises and carrying heavy backpacks. Honor brought a ticket to New Orleans and paid with cash. The bus left in forty minutes.

.::.

The girls decided to wait at the bus station until departure time. The TV at the top corner was set to a local channel. Apparently, there was a riot not far from their location. The reporter was in a helicopter. Rumor said the pandemonium was sparked by a Legacy Virus terrorist. The X-Men appeared on the screen just as the station made an announcement.

"_Attention, please,"_ announced a voice over the intercom, _"S.W.A.T. is confiscating our buses. We apologize for the inconvenience, but all departures for today are cancelled."_

The passengers collectively groaned.

"_If everyone will please board bus 1300, we will transport you to the Harlem station. We have been advised to evacuate."_

Bus 1300 was loaded to the brink. Old ladies, college students, a few tourists and two young girls were crammed shoulder-to-shoulder with their luggage piled on their laps and feet. Almost immediately, they began to sweat, but no one dared crack a window.

.::.

Emma Frost and Bishop were the recon team for Honor and Tess. Emma insisted they travel via motor bikes. Protection would be minimal, but would allow for an easier get away. Bishop didn't appreciate Emma's assumption that both girls would be well enough to ride, but consented. They took a route several blocks from the riot, but it sounded much closer. Police had already set up barricades, which they easily dodged.

_*No guards.*_Bishop thought to Emma. _*They've been called to help with the riot.*_

_*Not a good sign; is it?*_

They heard gun shots and then a surge of voices and footfalls. Thunder cracked over-head, and they sped away like demons.

This bus driver was too slow. The entire length of the ride, the passengers could hear the riot. When a jet flew over, people murmured that the Coast Guard had been called. Otherwise, everyone was deathly silent. Tension lingered in the air. When a gun went off, the passengers jumped in unison. The bus accelerated slightly, but had to stop again to make a turn. A sea of panicked mutants flooded the street, trapping the bus where it had stopped. It rocked as they thundered past. Some of the runners pounded on the vehicle, but the driver locked the door.

"There's no room!" he argued with them as they tried to board. "We're loaded to capacity!"

Windows cracked as plasma blasts were fired. The roof caved in slowly and a tire exploded as rioters jumped on the bus. People began screaming and crying. Where could they hide? What could they do?

Honor and Tess were perfectly still and quiet. Their only sign of fear were the white knuckles hidden beneath each other's fingers.

"Chica… Pray with me…_Bismillaah ar-Rahman ar-Raheem_…"

"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hollowed be thy name…"

"_Al_ _hamdu lillaahi rabbil 'alameen_…"

"Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done…"

"_Ar-Rahman ar-Raheem_…"

"In earth as in Heaven. Give us dis day our daily bread…"

"_Maaliki yaumid Deen_…"

"And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us…"

"_Iyyaaka na'abudu wa iy yaaka nasta'een_…"

"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…"

"_Ihdinas siraatal mustaqeem_…"

"For thine is de kingdom, de power, and de glory forever and ever…"

"_Siraatal ladheena an 'amta' alaihim_…"

"Amen."

"_Ghairil maghduubi' alaihim waladaaleen… Aameen_."

Chaos swirled around them, but did not pull them under. Fear reigned supreme, but did not touch seats fifteen and sixteen.

It was clear the cavalry wasn't coming to rescue them. The only aid Heaven would send was the grace to endure.

The bus finally tipped over, crushing the driver's side. The riders collapsed into each other like puppies in a crate. The vehicle disappeared beneath the sea of humanity like a raisin under a flood of ants. Honor and Tess were buried under bodies, steel, and more bodies. The windows splintered, shattered, and rained down like acid. Blood added to the disaster, filling the air with the smell of death. Hands reached into the bus of doom, but they weren't offering help. They were trying to steal the luggage! Somehow, they greedy hands got a hold of Tess, and pulled her up. Her hands gripped desperately at Honor's arms. Try as she could, she couldn't retain her friend. Tess ascended away from her, kicking and screaming and reaching for anything to grab hold of.

Suddenly, the passenger side of the bus began to glow neon blue. It exploded a second later. There was enough force behind it to blow the wall and looters _out_ rather than allowing it to collapse. The disoriented and injured riders quickly climbed out.

Honor, Tess, and a handful of other passengers too weak or hurt to escape remained in the bus. The group of enraged men was now trying to abduct Honor. She blasted them away by igniting prayer beads. The adrenaline helped fuel her, but she was weakening. The beads didn't do much more damage than a BB gun, and further irritated her aggressors.

Tess grabbed Honor's head with both hands, and a surge of energy flowed through the blond. Moments later, a transparent, blue sphere encompassed the girl. The men could not penetrate the force field, which slowly moved out to protect the entire bus.

Glass bottles, plasma blasts, fire, lighting, and boney spikes were all deflected.

Honor could hear people crying for help. A woman was being raped. Two men were fighting over a stolen television. A child was trapped in a burning building. Further in the distance, she was aware of her father. He was rushing, sweating, but unaware of her trauma.

Her eyes darkened as the spirit of her mother possessed her body.

"Pochica?" Tess whispered timidly.

Her friend's body was levitating!

Honor lifted over the bus and looked around. Her flaxen locks blew in the wind. Her legs were slightly bent and crossed – as if she'd done this a hundred times. She crossed her arms over her face, forming an 'X'. Blue lighting sparked and crackled around her, and the wind changed direction. Then her arms hurled open, and the ground outside the sphere ignited. The explosion was nuclear: starting at ground zero, and forcing its way out.

The force was strong enough to disturb the X-Men six blocks away. It was large enough to be seen by the helicopter overhead.

Emma and Bishop fought against the stampede. They came to a crater: formerly a city block. At the center were an overturned bus and a floating, glowing Honor.

"Holy shit…" murmured Emma.

.::.

Dozens of people died that day. Hundred more would die due to contamination of the Legacy Virus. The entire city had to be quarantined. Xavier decided to keep the school locked, refusing to allow even his X-Men back until they passed with a clean bill of health. They wouldn't be able to rest or come home for days. Cyclops called the rest of the team to the city borders, where they would help sort the populace, herd the sick into hospitals, and guard the borders.

The recon team remained with the girls. They retrieved Tess and the other passengers from the damaged bus, and coaxed Honor back to the ground.

Gambit arrived seconds later, Rogue close on his heels. He snatched up Honor and held her fiercely. His whole body was shaking.

"I knew it was _m' catin_…"

She sobbed into his jacket, "Papa… I'm losing my mind…"

"Den I'll help you find it." He kissed her repeatedly.

She pulled away and told her 'rescuers': "Dat note you found, it was just a dream I had. It didn't really happen. Sometimes I get dese fits, and see things… I didn't want people to know I was crazy, but it's the truth. My Papa would never hurt anyone!"

"_Chere_-"

"No, it's true! I see all sorts of horrible dings… I use to see Momma leavin' me. Now sometimes I see de school being overrun, and Xavier assassinated. But de things about Papa upset me de most. I wish I'd just kept my mouth shut!"

"You should've come forward sooner," said Emma. "Did you know some mutants have the ability to change reality? Your nightmares could become real. Just because you have visions doesn't mean you're a psychic. We can't help you unless you tell us every aspect about your powers. When have we ever given you a reason to distrust us?"

"I'm sorry…"

Emma contacted Hank telepathically and told him their situation. He agreed to examine them for contamination and return them to the school.

It took two hours for him to arrive. In that time, Honor's health deteriorated significantly. She became pale, feverish, and delirious. Gambit draped his trench coat over her and held her head against his chest, but she still complained of a draft. They took refuge in a crumbling pawn shop and marked the door with a red 'X'. This symbol had become synonymous with rooms containing the Legacy Virus. He tried to make the others leave, but Rogue flatly refused. Tessa threatened to handcuff herself inside and swallow the key.

"If her powers get out of hand," said Emma, "a telepath will be most useful."

Bishop: "My mission is to protect the X-Men. Can't very well do that if I'm running away with my tail between my legs."

"Fine," Remy said, "It's your funeral."

Half an hour later, Honor had a migraine and random bouts of paralysis. However, she had no cough or skin legions. They could rest assured that she wasn't infected. They could do nothing for her paralysis other than hope it didn't kill her, but a headache was something they could cure. Rogue and Emma walked to a pharmacy a few blocks away in search of pain medicine. Tess taped posters over the windows, turned off all the lights, and found some Tylenol. Nothing seemed to bring Honor any relief.

"My head…" She groaned, thrashing like a beheaded fish. "My head…"

Gambit stroked her hair and rocked with her. She broke his heart. If only he'd thought to ask Rogue to stay here with her… She was perfectly capable, of course; he just needed to _act_. It wasn't right that Belle was dead, and he was left with a sick child while Rogue went out looking for help. This whole situation was just _wrong_.

"I want Momma," Honor cried, "I want my Momma!"

"We're a pitiful pair wit' out her, _non_?"

She giggled, lifting his heart a little. "Are you mad at me?"

"For what, _chere_?"

"For keeping secrets… For running away… For blowing up dat bus…?"

"Ain't nothin' you done dat I ain't guilty of. Your old man might not look it, but I'm quite de hell raiser. Are you angry wit' me?"

"I don't think 'angry' is de word…"

"Afraid?"

She didn't answer.

"You weren't supposed to know de things I do. Ain't 'cause I'm ashamed of anything; it's 'cause you're a little girl. Children and adults live in different worlds. One day you'll understand why I went to Nawlins and what happened there. Until then, I hope you don't hate me. I ain't a monster, _catin_."

"I could never hate you."

The door opened and Rogue silently brought Honor some mystery pills. She took them without question. Half an hour later, she took two more. The agony was relentless.

"Jesus Christ! Where's Beast?"

"Papa, I think I'm dyin'…"

"Finally!" Bishop shouted from outside. "No, no, it's okay," they heard his deep voice rumble down the street. "Honor's powers spiked, and then she got sick. But that was two hours ago, and she hasn't shown any symptoms."

Hank burst in, and for a moment Honor felt safe. _'He's going to make me better,'_ she thought.

"Has she complained of any pain?" He asked briskly, taking her temperature and pulse.

"She's got a migraine. She was hallucinating earlier, but it's passed now."

"Did you give her anything for the headache?"

"Four darvocets," Rogue answered, biting her nails, "Over forty-five minutes. And Tylenol."

"_Four_? My stars, you should be soaring."

"No," Honor answered.

"No? What caused this, my dear? Where you injured? Frightened? Exposed to some radiation or chemical?"

"It's in her blood," Gambit said. "Same thing happened to me. When I was nineteen, my powers surged out of control. Nearly blew myself up trying to control dem."

"How did you manage it?"

"I saw a… doctor who performed an operation."

Beast took Gambit aside, and Tess took his place by Honor's side.

"Gambit, your 'doctor' is extremely gifted," Beast whispered, "I assume he deactivated certain areas of the brain to help you control your power levels. If I perform a lobotomy on Miss LeBeau, there is no guarantee. She will almost certainly slip into a coma, and _her_ body is not as strong as yours at twenty. Do you follow my meaning?"

"Is there anything else you could do?" asked Rogue.

"I would put her on a strong sedative. That would relieve the pain and relax the energy, but we need to get her back to my lab. Not to worry. During my painfully long journey, I was questioned by some young guardsmen. They were kind enough to lend me the use of their vehicle. If you can carry her outside-"

"Dr. McCoy!" Tessa yelled.

Honor's nose poured dark red blood. She was convulsing and unresponsive. Hank checked her pupils. Even under direct light, they were fully dilated.

"It is imperative that we get her to the lab as quickly as possible," he said tightly.

"There's no time for that!" Rogue snapped. "The school is half an hour away by car. If we get stopped again-"

"Den let's move!"

"She's dyin', Remy! She's hemorrhagin', ain't she, Beast? She'll be _dead_ in five minutes!"

"Her prognosis is grim," Hank confirmed.

"He's just tryin' ta stay calm so we don't panic! Ah can help. She needs t' cool off? Zapping life force is what Ah do! Tess here can reboot mah powers, so Ah can take hers."

"Cher-"

"Ah know it ain't ideal, but could it work?"

"I have no other option."

"Then let's do it. Quick, sugah, before Ah change mah mind."

.

_To Be Continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**Chapter Six**

Why couldn't you sleep last night? _Same old, same old. My body's trying to kill itself. Have you ever heard of anyone who couldn't sleep like me?_ Insomnia. Have you ever tried sleeping pills? _Who needs'm? Xavier's about to put me to sleep now._ Haha. I wonder at the irony of the world's greatest telepath unaware of us passing notes. He must be ignoring everyone. We're all so miserable. Seriously, can you sleep during the day better? Maybe you're just nocturnal. _No, it's __the same thing__. Did you have any luck in the library?_ Don't change the subject. Gambit? _Please don't tell anyone, but he watched a woman DIE! It was the same one he visited earlier. He helped hide the body. Everyone I love was there. If this ever got out, I'd blow myself up._ Meet me in study hall. And destroy this.

"Several things bother me about this note," said Cyclops. He had assembled in the X-Men in the war room to discuss Honor's situation. She was resting in the sick ward: shaken, but alive.

Rogue's absorption of her excess powers seemed to be her salvation. Rogue strove to take the energy rather than the memories, and was successful. Aside from a few glimpses of Belle laughing or yelling and Johnny driving, Honor's secrets were still her own. The X-Men were impressed with her new found control, but hadn't tested her limits just yet.

Xavier, however, could not hide his disappointment. He had hoped she could help them solve the LeBeau riddle. He had never considered – as Rogue had – that absorbing Honor's personality would destroy her relationship with Remy. Even if the little girl was unharmed, a part of Rogue would forever regard him as her _father_.

Hank stopped Honor's internal bleeding without surgery, and she seemed to be recuperating very well. She was kept in the sick ward for observations, but she wasn't isolated and didn't seem distressed this time. More than likely, she was worried herself and wanted to be close to Dr. McCoy in case she needed him. Meanwhile, the X-Men trickled back into the school and classes resumed.

In a rare act of kindness, many of the students brought Honor cards or candy to encourage her recovery. One of the older boys, a charming fox named Julian Keller, brought her a dozen pink roses. When Papa found out who they were from, he blew them up. Honor giggled as pink petals rained over her bed and floor like confetti. Dr. McCoy was not so amused.

Tessa kept her up-to-date with the gossip. The best news was when Ms. Grey called Bethany into her office, and told her the school had launched an investigation into her accusations. They found no evidence of wrongdoing on Gambit's part, and whatever relationship Tessa had with Honor was personal. The school neither encouraged nor discouraged homosexual relationships, but it would not permit malicious rumors to harbor prejudice. Bethany was to stop discussing Honor and Gambit in any non-professional manner.

"Way to stick it to her!" Honor had cried with glee.

Truthfully, the X-Men had reached no conclusion, but it didn't serve them well to have the students building discontent.

Today, they would finally have a chance to review the evidence and question Gambit. He was more than ready to close this ugly chapter.

"Several things bother me about this note," Scott began, "There's talk of suicide, pills, and a blatant disrespect for authority-"

Gambit yawned obnoxiously.

"If my child wrote this, I'd consider it dangerous," continued Cyclops, "But since we're only here to discuss Gambit's involvement, so let's get to it. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

"Am I de only one who doesn't know what we're doin' here? Heard only vague implications so far."

"That was exactly what _we_ got when I asked for a report of your activities in New Orleans."

"Dat wasn't X-Men business," Gambit said irritably, "It was personal."

"You're _always_ an X-Man! We don't get the luxury of personal vendettas!"

"Let's say someone does t' your child what dey did t' mine. Den I ain't got de _luxury_ a' questionin' de peckin' order 'round here."

"All right," said Storm firmly. "That is quite enough."

She stood and pressed Cyclops down with the weight of her stare. "Gambit, withholding your frustrations, have you anything to say in your defense?"

"Is dis gonna be like last time? You gonna make me wait t' de end of de '_trial'_ t' tell me why I'm here?"

"Formerly, you have been accused of murder, conspiracy, and evasion. Informally, you are accused of deceit, abuse of power, harassment… And if I understand Honor's meaning, seduction."

"You were wit' me de entire time, 'Ro. You ever see me do _any_ of dat?"

"Most certainly not."

"Den I rest my case!"

"Honor did say she dreamed it all up," Emma offered. "I haven't seen any evidence to contradict that."

"Kid _also_ said she'd die to protect him," said Logan. Perhaps no one had expected him to speak unless forced because they all waited patiently for him to conclude. "I back the Cajun, don't get me wrong. Fact is: this _ain't_ X-Men business. Pepper knows that, too, and a little lie ain't nothin' compared to doin' what's right."

"If Remy says he didn't do it, then Ah believe him!" Rogue quickly added.

"Jean-"

"No, Storm, I've been asked a million times. Honor has a very active imagination. I can't differentiate between dreams and epileptic hallucinations. And yes, she _does_ suffer from hallucinations."

"Perhaps she's merely a superior mind," Emma teased.

Jean flushed indignantly. "If you'd like the chance to examine her yourself-"

"No, thank you," Emma laughed and lightly dismissed her with the wave of her hand. "I know my morals aren't up to par with the X-Men standards, but I take issue with using _children_ against their _parents_ without their knowledge or sanction."

"Might we all consider-" Hank offered, "-the fact that our only evidence is a partial conversation between children who were not even present at said crime? The girls may very well be experiencing a _folie a duex._"

"My girl ain't _crazy_, Beast."

…

Honor and Tessa huddled together on the stiff hospital bed. Between them was a tiny ear piece which transmitted the would-be confidential meeting. Knowing Tessa couldn't eavesdrop without the telepaths discovering her, they had decided to bug the room instead. Planting a microphone in the War Room presented its own challenges, but Tess was great with computers and Honor was superb at hacking security systems. They _almost_ wanted credit.

"This is good," Tess assured her. "They're turning on each other. They won't have a chance to gang up on Gambit."

A few minutes later, the X-Men voted, and everyone concurred he was innocent of murder. Since the remaining charges carried no penalty, he merely received a verbal lashing.

"The public will always regard us as X-Men," Scott said, "A mark on your personal record is a mark on all of us. You-"

"One moment, Scott, if you please," said Xavier. He had been silent the entire time. He even cast a "present" ballot at the vote. As with Logan, everyone paused respectfully for him. "I thought something was off beam. Gambit, as you can confirm, there is a pattern in Honor's behavior. It is unlike her to _not_ attempt an infiltration… And here we have it." He held a tiny microphone between his forefinger and thumb. "Ladies, to the War Room, if you please. I trust you can find it on your own."

A few moments later, Honor entered the room with her chin held high. As usual, Tess was at her side. Honor knew she was suppose to look ashamed and embarrassed, but she refused. She'd done nothing wrong, and would behave thusly.

"_Catin_, can we _**not**_ go fifteen minutes without getting into trouble?" Gambit asked, unable to keep the pride out of his voice.

"Ditto, Pop."

"Is there something you'd like to contribute?" Xavier asked her. "Perhaps you could enlighten us on the manuscript. I would _also_ like to know how you got the password to the War Room…"

"The note was confiscated illegally," she huffed, trying to control her temper. "There _is_ such a thing as unlawful search and seizure. Or does dis school only abide by de law when it _suits_ you?"

"Your room belongs to Xavier Academy;" Mr. Summers responded shortly, "Anything in it is subject to search _with_ or _without_ your consent."

"Den why did you wait until I was away? You were _sneakin'_ 'cause you knew it was _wrong_! De only reason Papa ain't raisin' cane about it is 'cause he's on your payroll! Momma woulda _never_ let dis happen! Shame on you! Shame on _all_ a' you!"

"When the search was conducted is irrelevant!" said Mr. Summers.

"Your father would never put his job before your welfare," Xavier said.

"What is dis? Gang up on de LeBeaus day?"

Tante Ro got up from her seat, walked around the table and took Honor is her arms.

"No one is attacking you, child."

Honor pushed her away. "Don't pretend to be my friend! Dat's why everything around here falls apart. Ya'll pretend to be friends, but you're really just lookin' for a soft spot to put de knife! You're a bunch of _snakes_!"

"I don't care how angry you get," Remy warned, "You don't speak dat way t' your godmother!"

"Is _DIS_ why you left Momma?" She grew hysterical, feeding off his frustration. Against her deepest wishes, tears began to form and fall. Once more, she was a slave to her overwhelming emotions. "For these people who don't even _trust_ you? Dey don't even _LIKE_ you!"

"Chica, please," Tess took her hand, "You've made your peace."

Honor furiously smacked her own tears away. "I got one more thing t' say. For all your sneakin' and spyin', you didn't get nowhere! Next time, try de _direct_ approach. Bunch a' vipers!"

"Come on, chica…"

Honor walked away with so much energy that Tess had to sprint.

"_Gawd_!" Honor cursed, wiping her face, "I can't _believe_ I let dem see me cry! I'm such a _bébé_!"

"I thought you were very brave to stand up to Xavier like that."

"Another _detention_, I'm sure!"

Tessa led her friend into the woods behind the school. Honor was already upset enough without someone like _Bethany_ egging her on. And if she stayed on campus, someone was sure to see her tears and start another rumor. The woods served another purpose, too. Honor was always more relaxed outdoors. The tranquility and fresh air would put her at ease. Just to be sure, Tess lit a cigarette for her, too.

Once she had calmed down, Tess stroked Honor's blond hair and said: "You shouldn't've attacked your father like that. I know you were upset, but that bit about your mom was just _wrong_. You know he didn't have a choice."

"You know what Momma said? She said: 'When your Papa left me, he left you, too'."

Now Tess stopped comforting her and looked serious. "_Lots_ of people get divorced and still raise children together."

"Johnny says he even visited Momma sometimes. Dey would go out on dates, and do all these important things t'gether… But in de end, he always came back here. I don't know why!"

"You made him _cry_, 'On."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes. You did. Just now."

"Really?"

"I know he's not the world's greatest dad, but he would _never_ do that to you."

"Gosh… now I feel bad…"

"Then let's go back inside. We'll get a drink of water, wash our face. Then you can find your dad and apologize."

"Funny, I rather think Gambit owes _her_ the apology." said a booming voice.

The girls were startled to discover a third person standing ten feet away. The man – if indeed he was human – stood at least seven feet tall. He had snowy white skin with black eyes and a red diamond on his forehead. He wore a bizarre black uniform made of some unknown metal, and a red cape was erected around his collar. Overall, his body was snake-like: long and narrow and perfectly still until he struck.

Tess shook with fear. "Chica… Can you contact your father?"

"Don't be ridiculous, girl," the man said, "Who do you think you are dealing with? I am not some over-sized fur ball who will be blinded by a card trick while the other runs for help. Please do not insult me thusly. After all, I've treated you with dignity. I could've sent my hounds, and they would have dragged you to me. I do not normally conduct the less intellectual aspects of my work myself. But somehow, I knew this would be a better alternative. Honor, I've waited so long to meet you in person. I dreamed of you, too."

When he said her name, Honor had a sudden feeling of déjà vu. Her curiosity peaked. Meeting his eyes, she realized they were black and red, just like Papa's.

"I know you… How do I know?"

"We are soul mates. Come. We have much work to do."

Honor took his hand, vaguely aware of Tess yelling in the distance. They passed through a tesseract.

.::.

The girl known as Honor LeBeau died.

For the first time in millennia, she understood who she _truly_ was. Ten thousand years ago, she first walked this world as a great warrior. Her name lived on as the goddess Hathor before the written language. She had been content in the afterlife until a voice beckoned her back.

Revived as a spirit, she comforted a dying boy. His name was En Sabah Nur, and he was consumed with anger and vengeance. His spirit was as merciless as the desert which had condemned him. She recognized a great strength in him. Unlike most people, who find their power in love, this child found his power in anger. The two of them were twin spirits. Hathor had nearly conquered the known world during her life. She would have succeeded but for the betrayal of her lover, known to En Sabah Nur as "Ra". The Judas weakened her through intoxication and then raped her. Disgraced, her army would no longer obey. Eventually, she escaped to the River Nile, where she sacrificed herself to the raging waters and the crocodiles.

The ritual was honored every year at harvest time. In time, the understanding was lost. Then the sacrifice of life was forfeited. Finally, the young girl representing her was replaced by a willing priestess. The true version was occasionally revived during times of great famine. Hathor turned a blind eye to the sacrifices and prayers of the living… Until En Sabah Nur. She gave him the gift of immortality, and he swore to establish her dynasty of revenge. Once the foundation was set, she would be reborn in mortal form. They would reign eternally in alternating years. Her dynasty would be a time of great wealth, of births, of peace. He would bring destruction and war and death.

Only the divine could understand that these two opposing forces were not enemies, but equals. Nothing lived forever. Plenty always led to want, and destruction always led to peace. It was the cycle of life, and could not be changed or challenged.

En Sabah Nur gathered a great army, which spread across the world like a plague. The Great Pharaoh slaughtered the men responsible for Sabah Nur's wrath, but to no avail. It took a great sorcerer to rise up the desert against him, and hold him in a deep sleep for centuries. Eventually, Hathor became aware of Sabah Nur's incarceration, and temporarily possessed a priestess to come to his aid. In gratitude, he raped her body. This was the beginning of Clan Akkabar, and the beginning of his hibernation periods. During his "naps", his spawn continued his work. When Hathor became impatient, she would take the mind of a powerful telepath or precog and wake him. This almost always resulted in the death of her puppet.

However, this last possession broke the pattern. She had inhabited this body, the body of Honor LeBeau, from conception. How dangerous. She risked the perils of pregnancy, birth, illnesses, accidents and natural disasters. She gambled on this girl's health and skill. Potentially, she could be no more powerful than an alpha level mutant; or, she could've been _homo sapien_. Somewhere on her journey, she had forgotten her former greatness. Perhaps the fetus, with no memory capacity, was responsible. Maybe the child was conquered by her mother's brainwashing. Or perhaps the soul, ancient and lonely, had chosen to forget and forfeit its destiny.

But when her mind was weakest, her spirit called out to him. Unfortunately, his mind was impregnable. He never heard her. Incidentally, her spirit linked with another: her biological father. Gambit's dreams became hers.

Sabah Nur, now known as Apocalypse, might've walked this planet all her life without ever realizing who she was. How tragic that would've been. It was only during the riot in the city - when she blasted the automobile - that she came to his attention. More accurately, she came to the attention of Mr. Sinister. Apocalypse and Sinister were sometimes allies but mostly rivals. Recently, they allied together to hijack an abandoned machine with the ability to convert everyone on earth into a mutant. Sinister was obsessed with enhancing the mutant race. He'd dedicated his genius to selective breeding and cutting back genetic dead-ends.

A decade ago, he had assisted the mutant Gambit. It was a footnote in his life, really. Sinister helped a young mutant control his dangerous powers, and in exchange the man helped Sinister terminate the Morlocks. The two parted ways, but occasionally worked together. Sinister had high hopes for Gambit's potential. Although he kept record of his readings and activities, he had been unaware of the child.

The riot exposed her existence and potential. Unlike her father, who couldn't control his incredible powers, she managed to endure the pain and bear the burden. Sinister was fascinated, and immediately set about studying her.

When Apocalypse uncovered Sinister's latest hobby, he offered to help abduct the girl.

To say Sinister was stunned by this "offer" was an extreme understatement. Apocalypse did not _assist_ anyone. He captured and manipulated and tortured and disposed. He did not take an interest in people or their potential, as Sinister did. Apocalypse saw only a chess game where everyone was a pawn. Those unfortunate enough to become his tools did not last long. Sinister was a rare exception. He was one of the few who had managed to work with Apocalypse and escape with his life. Most of his allies ended up like Exodus, forever imprisoned in the Himalayas; or like Ozymandias, his immortal and eternal slave.

Apocalypse wanted nothing from this child other than her presence. Sinister could only describe the attraction as _fascination_. Just as he had written off his old ally as cold and unfeeling, the giant Egyptian took in a stray. Sinister could hardly keep from laughing when the God of Death gushed about her perfection, and how she was necessary to their success.

Very well.

Sinister would kill for the chance to observe his latest pet. He expected her to behave like any twelve-year-old girl: moody, rebellious, and impatient. Before long, Apocalypse would grow weary and smash her like an insect. To his utter shock, Apocalypse treated her like a goddess. He indulged her in luxuries he denied to himself. She was given a castle on the Blue Area of the Moon. Her bed was large enough for twelve men, and delicately encompassed by sheer drapes. When she woke in the night, as she often did, she could stand on the balcony and observe the earth.

During the day, she would frolic in her own personal jungle. Her property had every habitat found on earth: rain forests, swamps, deserts and mountains. Every day, she walked with Apocalypse in the desert, and they discussed their dreams.

Occasionally, she descended from her Heaven and worked with Sinister and Apocalypse. She would ask questions filled with ignorance, such as: "If I can see Gambit, why can't he see me?" Only to offer the most wicked advice, like: "If you _really_ want to cripple Xavier Christ, cripple his disciples."

Apocalypse enjoyed playing her games. Sometimes he would ask her if she was lonely and required a playmate. Wisely, she would answer – "Loneliness is nothing compared to weakness."

Sinister was instructed to help the child improve her abilities. Like her father, she could transform (inorganic) matter into energy. Gambit had the _potential_ to transform organic matter, and control anything with energy. In theory, he was capable of effecting gravity, time, and even the elements. However, his body could only withstand so much power. It was true that he had occasionally surpassed his own capacity, but his normal limitations were significant.

Honor's body didn't seem to abide by these limitations. Not only could she recycle created energy, but she also didn't require a physical connection to ignite the process. She could use the current of gravity, time, thought, the earth or even the clouds to carry her assault.

As Sinister experimented on her, some side effects arose. She aged slightly, but not significantly. Apocalypse didn't seem to notice. Nor did he understand the implications. A fourteen-year-old girl desires much more than a girl just two years younger. In the early teen years, a critical developmental step is establishment among one's peers. She began challenging Apocalypse: a dangerous idea.

Sinister began subversive plots to control her.

Meanwhile, Apocalypse and Hathor pressed on with their schemes. Using Sinister's records, Hathor's abilities, and Apocalypse's protection, the three of them set out to destroy every mutant with time-traveling abilities or potential.

They struck the most powerful mutants first.

.::.

_Anchorage, Alaska_

Maddie Pryor silently chopped carrots for the salad. The only sound emulating through the house was the _chop, chop, chop_ the knife made against the cutting board. Her fifteen-year-old son, Nate, sat silently in the living room. He was angry with her, as he so often was lately. She felt like she was losing control of him.

She had considered sending him to New York to live with his father. As much as she wanted to be rid of him, she couldn't bear the thought of it.

This was Jean's fault. If Scott had never left, Nate wouldn't be acting this way.

_Chop, chop, chop!_

Suddenly, the whole house shook. Maddie and Nate looked at each other in shock. A moment later, a giant hand broke through the ceiling and pulled Maddie away. Nate ran to where she had been, but a blue bolt of energy shot up from the floor and attacked him.

Physically, he was aware of the pain, but his mind was able to reach his assailant. She was just a little girl! She had been mentally enslaved by a more powerful mutant, but he could still find her free will.

_*I'm so lost. Please help me.*_

*_We can help each other,*_ he responded.

From the moment that Honor laid eyes on Nate Summers, she knew she couldn't kill him. She remembered the picture of the little boy in Ms. Grey's office. He had grown into an angry young man, but she sensed an engulfing void in him. She knew his emptiness: the pain of bearing another's sins.

Nate teleported himself to the front yard. He could have escaped to safety, but he would never abandon his mother. Also, he had promised to help the girl. He had never encountered a mind so vulnerable to manipulation. She must've been the puppet to everyone in her life. Her body did not reflect the mind within. She was as tall as he was. Unkempt strawberry-blond hair fell over her back and waist. Her body was underfed and too heavy at the bust and hips: like she'd been stretched out too quickly. She wore a sheer white gown clasped around her neck by a fist-sized blue jewel scarab. Around her head sat a gold circlet, and metallic arm bands ordained her biceps.

Flanking the girl were two men he knew: Mr. Sinister, dark and ruthless as the devil; and Apocalypse, the plague of mutant-kind.

"Destroy him," ordered Apocalypse.

Mr. Sinister panicked, but it was Hathor who risked herself. "Not the baby! Please, Great One, show mercy! This one isn't like the others. He puts brightness in the world."

"Explain."

"This one is strong. His father will hesitate to strike us if we spare him."

"Who is his _father_ to challenge my strength?"

"His father carries a great potential," Sinister encouraged the idea, "But he is no match for you. I think this boy's true worth is _himself_. The benefit to you would be the loyalty he inspires."

"I see," he grumbled, and narrowed his eyes at Honor. "My goddess turns her attentions away from the father who has provided for her to the stud in the fields. After all the men who have betrayed you, can you not see that he is like the others?"

"Our souls are mated, Sabah Nur. No pony can change that."

Nate had no idea what these loons were going on about, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Finally, Apocalypse released an unconscious Maddie, and captured Nate instead.

"I can deny you nothing, Life Goddess."

.::.

_Fukuoka, Japan_

Deep in the forest sat an isolated temple. Three good brothers who had all taken a vow of silence kept the floor swept, and the incense burning. Once a year, three families made a pilgrimage to their simple shrine. Very rarely, a sickly soul would come seeking solace. But they were mostly left to themselves. Although they didn't know each other's family names or histories, they were acutely connected spiritually. They shared a mutual dedication to meditation and kindness. If one monk became ill or weak, the others helped shoulder his burden. This had been their life for many, many years.

One night, the newest brother took to isolation in the woods. The others left him alone for a time, but this behavior was counter to his goals. He tried to dismiss them, but they waited with him until… Until he had his answer and waited no more.

At a slight distance from the brothers, a puddle of light appeared in mid-air. A young woman in ancient Egyptian dress stepped out, followed by a grey-skinned giant, and a pale devil. Before words could be spoken, an impenetrable fog swallowed them all. Invisible hands urged the brothers back into their shrine.

The hands belonged to a red-haired woman and a stout man who spoke with a Canadian accent: "Stay put." Without further explanation, the rescuers darted back outside.

The brothers stood in the open door way and peered into the fog.

Hathor knew it was only a matter of time before someone deduced a pattern in their behavior. Once Scott realized his son had been abducted, he hastened to react. His fury tickled her. He brought Storm, Jean, and Wolverine with him, but she had anticipated that as well. She was only slightly surprised to see Gambit, but stunned at his appearance.

He hadn't slept or shaved, and stood with a hunch. His eyes mirrored her thoughts – _"Who is that?"_

"Poor Papa looks _dreadful_."

"You ain't exactly a vision, _catin_. Come wit' me; I'll get you fixed."

She had a vision of her father telling her a bedtime story. He wasn't very good with prayers, so he began his own ritual of telling her a story. Her very favorite was the tale of the princess and the jewel thief. In this tale, the nameless thief was the best on the hot Sahara. He needed no weapons to infiltrate the Sultan's palace. His prize lay on a sleeping princess, who gladly gave him more than he asked. She fell in love with him, and asked to join his band of pirates. Papa never finished the story. Honor knew the thief couldn't steal the princess, but the joy was not in the ending… It was in the story.

During the third rendition, she realized _he_ was the jewel thief. She wanted to tell him that she knew, but resisted. For some reason, he lied. He couldn't confess, but he wanted to. That was the moment she began to love him.

"She _is_ complete," Sinister teased, "Can't you see that? At long last, where she belongs: with the ones who understand her potential."

"Where's Nate?" Cyclops snarled, his eyes glowing.

"Baby boy's gone to Heaven," Hathor answered in a sing-song voice. "He sleeps with the stars now. Just like Momma."

It was a lie that pushed him over the edge. He let out a howl and fell to his knees.

Normally, Apocalypse did not permit Hathor to lie. The action implied that her ability required certain behavior of others. Her will was law. Her authority: unquestionable. She didn't rely on the world's most powerful mutants anymore than she relied on African ants to continue building their colonies. However, in this instance, the desired result was only to inflict pain.

Apocalypse joined Sinister and Hathor in a rare laugh at Scott's suffering. Secretly, she was relieved at his evident pardon, and satisfied with herself for defying him.

"Show them what power they rejected," said Apocalypse.

Hathor lifted the time-traveling monk from his shrine and brought him to the gathering. Almost immediately, the X-Men realized her scheme. Jean launched a telekinetic attack, which Hathor easily thwarted with her own force field. Storm grabbed the brother in mid-air and tried to slow his progress, but she was pulled closer. Powerful optic blasts shook her force field to its core, and the dense air crumbled and evaporated. Cyclops aimed to destroy her, but luckily fell short.

'_Lucky'_ because Sinister and Apocalypse were only observing. They had accompanied her, yes, but this was her initiation. She would fail or succeed alone.

"_Gambit!"_ Jean cried.

Suddenly, an acute pain filled Hathor's head and chest. It wasn't a telepathic attack, this was much worse. However the link between Honor and Gambit operated, the X-Men had found a way to activate it. Originally, their minds had only connected when they were both at their weakest. The conversation had been so weak that he was completely unaware, and she could only recall pieces – a name or face or building. But now, he was able _force_ her to listen.

_Momma on her wedding day… Rogue crying on Papa's chest… Tante 'Ro agreeing to be her godmother… Teaching Papa to play piano…_

"Papa…" Honor said in a small and strange voice. "Where am I?"

His memories of love were strong, but bitter sweet. Momma had lied to him and broken his heart. Rogue had abandoned him and broken his heart. Storm had found him wanting and broken his heart. Honor brought so much guilt over things no one could change. Just that quickly, Hathor latched onto the bitterness and rejected Honor. The little girl faded behind the dementia.

"She lied about Nate!" Jean declared with glee. "They've got him!"

Hathor charged the floating brother, and he exploded in Storm's arms. Blood and carnage hailed from the sky.

"Honor! No!" cried her godmother as the others dodged the bloody rain.

"This ends here!" Cyclops was charging for another blow, but Hathor beat him. In a blue flash that shot through the ground, Jean was blown away. Distracted, Scott gave her an advantage.

Hathor turned her blood and black eyes to Gambit. Suddenly, there was a growl and a heavy weight threw her to the ground. Where the hell had _Wolverine_ been hiding? She froze, but he didn't hesitate to unsheathe his adamantium claws and stab her through the heart. He expected to feel the penetration of her soft, warm skin; the tearing of muscle and organs; and the gentle resistance of bone. By happenstance, his claws pierced the blue jewel over her sternum. They slid right through the stone like butter, and his knuckles stopped just inches away from the surface. The blades were eleven inches long and should have pierced her. But rather than the taste of warm, young blood, his claws bit into something black and cold and empty.

Was she already dead?

He saw a flash of light, and then a lightning bolt ripped through his body.

Gambit tried to approach Honor, but she set up a force field that kept him at bay. She stood gracefully and carefully picked the grass blades from her clothes. Scott was in the background, pleading with Jean. Wolverine was unconscious. Meanwhile, Sinister and Apocalypse hadn't lifted a finger.

Storm had the sickening realization that this poor girl was just their pawn, and the X-Men had played along. "Gambit! Take Wolverine back to the Blackbird!"

"I ain't leavin' wit' out her!"

"Do not sacrifice yourself needlessly! If you must die for her, make it count!"

While he hesitated, Apocalypse sneered at him. "A powerless mutant and _homo sapien_ conceived the body of the Life Goddess. The cosmos _do_ have a sense of humor."

The Trinity slipped back through their tesseract – on to their next victim.

The X-Men limped back to their jet, hoping the next team would be better prepared. On the flight back, Wolverine regained consciousness mid-air. He was greeted by an eerie silence that he quickly filled: "Turn this bird around, Storm. We gotta go back."

"Logan… Jean is dead."

.

_To Be Continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**Chapter Seven**

"IMPOSTER!" Sinister roared, gripping Hathor's thin neck and lifting her from the floor. He had followed her back to her castle for a private confrontation. He would not dare insult her before her God of Death. "Do you know what the ancients did to false prophets?"

She grabbed his wrists, ignited them, and landed softly on her feet. "Hung them with the Judases and the dirty socks, but I am neither."

"Centuries of searching… Hundreds of lives lost for that stone… And you let that beast desecrate it!" His hands were already regenerating.

"Wanted to see what would happen when the kitty stuck a finger in the socket."

Her carefree mood was swayed by nothing, and this only infuriated him further. "You think you can push me like you do your _Death God_, and I'll spill blessings, too? Test me again, and I'll-"

"Leave her alone!" Nate interjected.

The young man had been stranded in Hathor's castle for two days. That was too long. Sinister knew Nate wouldn't be able to safely teleport such a distance. He'd considered contacting his sister, Rachel, but he wouldn't endanger her. Escape was futile, anyway; nowhere was safe from the eyes of Apocalypse. He might as well stay near the great brute, where he might be able to help the X-Men.

"That's right," Nate taunted Sinister, "Wouldn't harm your _pet_, would you?"

"I can promise you, dear boy, the day shall come when my mercy will be withdrawn. Only the very young and very stupid neglect to plan for their own death."

Sinister's lip curled in an arctic cold smile before he left them.

"Glad _he's_ finally gone! The next galaxy couldn't be far away enough _those_ two." Nate said.

The atmosphere was much more relaxed when Apocalypse and Sinister weren't around, but Nate still felt tense. The feeling was very reminiscent of when Jean came back, and his mom was insanely jealous. His parents didn't talk for days at a time. He hated them both for being so selfish, and just wanted to _leave_. He felt that way now.

"You hungry?" Nate asked.

He thought of a luxurious table filled with the most delicious treats, and the vision appeared. He took her hand regally and escorted her to her seat. The normal laws of nature did not seem to apply on the Blue Area of the Moon.

Some things, like gravity and oxygen, operated as they would on earth. This was unnerving because Apocalypse could kill them any time he wanted simply by removing the atmosphere. The air did not depend on his will; it remained with or without him. But he was unnaturally powerful, and could bend nature to his will.

Other things, like food and clothing and furniture, could be created at will. Nate hadn't discovered if his telepathy was responsible for this magic, or if anyone could play god here. But he knew if solids could come from the air, then air could pass through solids. In older words: the walls had ears. He trusted Honor, but was very careful what he said to her. He assumed his telepathic conversations went unchecked. For now.

"Killed Phoenix," Honor said quietly.

She appeared catatonic. Nate recognized this pattern in her: an unfortunate side-effect of the mind-control.

"Why?"

"Had to be done…"

Choosing not to focus on her guilt, he distracted her with a story. "Did you know I have a sister? Half-sister, actually. Her name's Rachel."

"I always wanted a brother or a sister."

"Ray and I didn't grow up together. She's from another dimension. She has that ability… She can jump dimensions _and_ time. In her world, both her parents are dead. She was raised by a man who controlled her thoughts and actions. He made her hunt down and kill other mutants. Eventually, the guilt overwhelmed his control."

"You think the big, bad man _forces _me?"

"I can tell you're unhappy."

"_Happiness_. What a loopy idea." Her voice had taken on that sing-song tone once more. "Come sit on my lap, baby boy, and Tante Hathor will make you a believer." Her eyes were far away, but a hand trailed suggestively down her neck. She tilted her head back and smiled.

"_Honor_," he tried to imitate his father's warning tone.

Really, he was uncomfortable. She got this way sometimes – provocative and sensual. He wondered if she'd been abused before Sinister's abduction. That would certainly explain her desperation to leave with him. It would also explain her impulse to seduce every man she enjoyed. Nate knew some girls at school who behaved this way. They were flirtatious as whores, but never followed through on their implications. He didn't pretend to understand those girls. He liked to think Honor was just a flirt.

"The X-Men have been the cause of all my worries," she said quietly. "They tried to kill him once. Sweet Roguey found out some naughty dreams, so she dumped him in an ice bucket. Terribly lost he was. Sometimes, he still gets cold sweats. He tries not to think about it, but the snakes, you know. Crawl in his ear and scramble things up."

"So what happened?" Ask Nate, grateful she'd changed the subject. "I mean, he obviously survived."

"Do you have any idea what that's like? The cold isn't even cold anymore. It burns and itches. Like a hundred ants or a jelly fish. You itch, itch, itch! But the burning never goes away. Nathaniel rescued him. _Fathers can be so_ _meddlesome_." She giggled at her own private joke.

"_Sinister_? Sinister _rescued_ him?"

"Poor Papa woke up." Her head was tilted, her eyes unfocused. "He had no limbs! The ants got them! How could he hold his babies when he had no limbs?"

"Gambit's only got _one_ child: _**you**_. And he never held you as a baby! Forget it."

Nate dropped the conversation, deciding she'd finally lost her last marble, when she said: "Really makes you question which side you're on… Doesn't it?"

.::.

_Xavier Academy_

Jean's death splintered the Xavier dynasty. The school was without a headmistress; the X-Men, without balance; the mutant world, without a champion. Scott and Gambit were utterly useless and always bickering… Even more so than usual. Storm was clearly torn between her loyalties as godmother and X-Woman. Rogue loathed her powers for not returning to their former super-human benefits. Xavier had expected Logan to be as destroyed as the rest. His not-so-secret love for Jean had driven him away many times. When they last thought her dead, after her marriage to Scott, and after the death of the Dark Phoenix, Logan had disappeared in the night without a word to anyone. Xavier expected this again.

Instead, he received a late night visit.

"Sorry it's so late, Chuck. Been keepin' an eye on the Cajun."

"Oh yes, the vigil. How democratic of you to work in shifts. But I suspect when he's ready to re-join Mr. Sinister, he'll manage an escape. Tea?"

Being a telepath had some advantages, including the foresight of unannounced, late night visitors. Xavier had been awake anyway, and made some tea for his guest.

"Thanks." Logan politely partook. "About today… When I stabbed the girl, I know everyone thinks I missed. _I don't miss_. Claws went right through her, like she wasn't even there."

"How is that possible?"

"I dunno. Had one hand on her neck. I _know_ she was there. But when I stabbed her, I saw something, too. Doesn't make any sense to me. I thought maybe you could use Cerebra to pull out my thoughts. Might make more sense to Gumbo."

Xavier was stunned. For one, this was completely out of character for Logan. As kind as he was, his character demanded reprieve of personal suffering before addressing the team's needs. Secondly, he and Jean had both determined Honor free of telepathic abilities. But how else could she transfer her thoughts?

He assembled the team and Tessa to view Logan's thoughts.

"I know this has been a difficult day, and you're all exhausted," Xavier addressed his team, "But I must ask you to focus on what we're about to witness. Any detail may provide us with a clue to Nate's whereabouts or Honor's state of mind. Logan, whenever you're ready."

Logan's thoughts were unusually clear and quick. With minimal interference, he brought forward a flash of scenes in rapid succession. Honor's vision, now in his mind, was displayed on the enormous dome walls of Cerebra.

A rail-thin black woman with matted white hair and brown teeth chanted: "…When de summer fever breaks, de blue dragon rides on swift winds. De white devil with red eyes resurrects de Old Kingdom, and evil t'ings are passed away."

Toddler Honor sat by Vivien's death bed. The old woman said with her last breath: "You will be our hope an' our salvation."

_This is how much we love you._

_Children are scared._

Honor walked alone through a dark morgue. She approached a metal wall with a dozen or more handles. On the end was a cabinet labeled: "Boudreaux, Bella Donna". She pulled out the table and saw her mother's dead body. No incisions had been made, but her body was white and blue. Her eyes were frozen open.

_We don't always kill out of hate._

"Momma… Why did dat man wanna hurt me?"

"Because he knows how important you are. Good Lord put you on dis earth for a very important reason. And it's my job to protect you."

Frozen blue eyes.

_What de hell you wan'a father for? So you got somewhere __**else**__ to go?_

Johnny ran into the morgue, panting. Too late. In the darkness by a corpse, he could see Honor's silhouette.

"Honorita…"

Honor quickly pulled off her jacket and covered her mother's naked body from Johnny. He sobbed and pulled her away. Once in the hall, he squeezed her and wept openly.

"That's not your mother anymore. That's not where she is!"

The young girl didn't cry or return his painful embrace. Instead, she asked: "Where is she, Johnny?"

The hospital halls faded into darkness. There was nothing to be seen in the darkness. There was only the cold to feel. The temperature steadily decreased to freezing. Through the darkness, the walls of a cave were barely visible. Gambit charged a card, lighting the cave he was huddled in. He was in terrible shape. Shivering violently, he managed to remove a boot. The skin beneath was solid black.

_This is how much we love you._

_We don't always kill out of hate._

_This is how much we love you._

"That's it," Logan said, removing the device which pulled his thoughts into visible form. "Just keeps repeatin'."

The room was quiet for a long time. All eyes were cast down, either in thought or for lack of it. Emma was the first to speak.

"Well, I'll say it. Didn't make a damn bit of sense to me. Christ, Logan! All that non-sense about killing and dead mothers, and you didn't think to ask Scott to sit this one out?"

"If he can't handle it, it's up to him to sit this one out," he answered. "I ain't his keeper."

"It's a message," Rogue said. "Ah think she was apologizin'."

"I saw nothing that implied she was sorry or acting against her will," snapped Emma. "What _I_ saw was an egotistical child listening to the ghost of her crazy mother!"

Silence crept in again.

Gambit asked Tess: "Did she really put dat much faith in it?"

She nodded. "She said after her mother died, she kinda became obsessed with it. Said it made her feel close to her again. When she started school here, she just kinda dropped it for a while. But then the seizures got worse. She thought her mother was trying to contact her, return her to the right path."

"She had visions, didn't she?" Rogue said gently. "Ah wanna know what she saw."

Tess tried to ignore her teachers' undivided focus on her face. "She saw… terrible things. People being massacred… Torturous experiments… A snowy wasteland… That's how she tracked her father." She added bitterly: "I think she would've talked about it if everyone around here weren't so _secretive_."

"And after she located Gambit?" Xavier kindly asked.

"No, _after her mother_ died and her powers manifested, the visions got stronger. They were still _dreams_, but they didn't have to scare the crap out of her for her to remember. Once she and Johnny hit the road, she was alone a lot. She learned to call the dreams up at will. She said especially at night, she could just sit there and focus. She'd get a feeling like… salt water or sand.

"But then she couldn't turn it _off_. When she tried to block out a vision, she'd have a seizure. At first, I panicked. She told me she couldn't tell anyone, and I knew she was right. So I helped her steal from Dr. McCoy, and I gave her the shots. I know it was wrong, but I was so scared."

"Why did you feel the need to keep her condition undisclosed?" Beast inquired.

"Oh, come on! None of you really _cared_ until Gambit got involved! Professor Xavier passed her off on Ms. Grey. Ms. Grey passed her to Dr. McCoy. No one _wanted _to help her! You only took what you could from her, and then treated her like a problem when she wouldn't give you _everything_!" In a rare display of emotion, Tessa's sickly pale checks were flushed.

"You are correct in your judgment," said Storm. "We failed her."

"I know I'm not the world's greatest telepath! Or a doctor! Or a psychic or anything extraordinary, but all the answers to her problems are in the library!" Tess continued her rant, encouraged by Storm's acceptance. "She and I spent _hours_ researching her symptoms.

"You know what she has? _Precognitive capabilities_! A text-book case of it! She was _born_ with it, which means she's a Level Beta. The symptoms probably would've gone unnoticed _forever_, but when she was forced to exercise that ability, it became stronger. A telepath couldn't locate her precognition, just like a telepath wouldn't be able to know she had black and red eyes… Well, the telepath _could_ figure it out _if_ Honor knew, but of course she's _very_ good at jumbling up her thoughts. I think her mind's so knotted up now that not even _she_ can sort it out anymore."

"My stars…" said Hank, removing his glasses.

As the resident doctor, it was his responsibility to diagnosis mutations. Of the entire staff, he had probably spent the most time with her, too; besides her father and Rogue. But with the Legacy Virus and mid-term exams approaching, he had missed it… Still, she had been relying on him and he failed her. There was no excuse.

"Look," Tess continued. "She _wants_ to be the child of the prophecy; she believes it's her destiny. I know you guys think she's crazy, but it's what she's been told her whole life. And it's only important because… She won't stop until the prophecy's been fulfilled, even if she has to _make_ it happen. I'd bet you _anything_ she's in New Orleans."

.::.

_London, England_

Matthew Tate sat alone by the fire. His powers had made him a very wealthy man, but money could only buy so much. It couldn't buy him anymore time. It couldn't buy him enough protection.

He'd lived a full life. He had traveled the world: many times and over many different eras. He had financed expeditions to certain unknown, historical sites that had changed the way people viewed culture. He had conversed with some of the greatest men to ever walk the earth.

Now he was an old man. He was tired of time-traveling. He wanted to wake up and fall asleep in a place he could call home. Unfortunately, that place was in nineteenth century Scotland with a lively lass and his hunting dogs. She would die… _had_ died… thinking he abandoned her. Matthew was trapped in the wrong time and place.

He didn't travel as often as he use to, but several weeks ago, he heard rumors of a time-traveler massacre. He tried to flee, of course, and found himself powerless. So he did the next best thing.

Using his vast fortune, he hired protection. The guards were actually protecting several of his estates, to distract his assassins.

The mutant police force contacted him and offered their assistance, too. They said one of the assassins was a child under mind control, and they had an interest in her. Matthew bought some information and discovered the child was Honor LeBeau, heir to the Thieves and Assassins Guilds of New Orleans. Declining the laws help, he hired the Assassins Guild out of New Orleans to protect him.

The move could backfire. He realized LeBeau may not hesitate to slaughter her former friends, and that the Guild might gladly forfeit their lives for hers. But she moved from one project to another, facing no serious resistance. He had the best force, and an emotion weapon to boot. His chances were as good as any.

Outside, Marie-Therese was hiding in the shadows. She could wait all night; just like the last three nights. Her focus never wavered. Belle was an excellent teacher.

She _felt_ the attackers before she saw them. Mentally, she contacted her subordinates stationed around the house. Then a bright, shinning puddle appeared in the distance. Marie saw the figure of a young woman emerge. Her only apparent weapon was a staff strapped to her back. The weapon was made of an indistinguishable metal, and held an unsheathed blade at the top. The blade was curved like a crescent moon, eighteen inches wide, and as long as her sword.

As the girl approached, Marie could make a description: Caucasian, red-blond hair, white dress, between five foot nine and five foot eleven…

Honor?

"Stand aside, Marie. This is his fate."

She stood still while Honor walked passed her. Marie's heart pounded. What was _wrong_ with her! She'd accepted this man's money with the promise to eliminate his assassin. She was oath-bound to protect him.

Seven minutes later, Honor exited the house.

"What've you done t' me?" Marie called after her.

Honor stopped and made eye-contact with her. Marie felt her body relax, but her mind raced. This girl was… _demented_.

"What happened?"

"You have a part to play, too, puppet." Honor doubled back and kissed Marie on the mouth.

_We don't always kill out of hate._

.::.

_Xavier Academy_

With high hopes and low morale, Remy and Rogue left New York for Louisiana. Cyclops decided to remain at the school until Cerebra found a lead on Nate's whereabouts. The rest of the team promised to travel if needed, but also declined to leave.

Remy was grateful for the solitude and left the matter – he worked better without them anyway – but he suspected the school would empty if they thought _Nate_ was in New Orleans.

The first day's trip was uneventful. They stopped twice for meals, and talked about moving to Valle Soleada after this mess cleared away.

"Dis time," Remy said, "We do t'ings right. No more pointless fights. No more secrets or mind games! It always one of us tryin' t'make dis work, and de other runnin' away. I'm sick a' dis! I love you, _chere_."

"Ah love you, too, Remy, but now that Ah've got mah powers back-"

"_Mon Dieu_, you back on dat? Do you love me, _chere_? _Do you?"_

"Of course Ah do, but-"

"Den we can make dis work."

It wasn't like Rogue to let anyone have the final word in an argument, but this time she dropped the matter. _He_ was asking _her_ for a commitment. After years of waiting for it, she suddenly found she didn't want it anymore. Maybe she never had. But she didn't want to _refuse_ it, either, because then he might leave. Why did things have to change? Twisted as it was, this very passionate, casual thing worked for them. The idea of a serious commit felt like a tight, wool sweater chocking her.

To distract herself, she turned the radio up and heard Johnny signing the _Dead Song_. They looked at each other and should've been happy for him. Instead, Rogue felt a chill down her spine. It felt like they were locked in an inescapable destiny again.

When they called home that night, Emma answered: "Could you check your vehicle for stowaways?"

Tessa had hidden herself in the trunk.

"Do you have any idea what kinda trouble you coulda caused?" Rogue scolded her in the hotel room. "What if we'd crashed? What if we got stopped an' someone searched the car?"

"What if we got de hotel we _really_ wanted wit' de heart-shaped bed?"

"Just how long were you plannin' on hidin'?"

"You can send me back," Tess defied them, "I'll hotwire a cab if I have to! I'm _going_ with you!"

"Dis ain't a vacation, _chere_. You could get hurt, and we can't be lookin' after you."

"_Me_ get hurt? I'm just as capable as the two of you, and I'm _more_ powerful than _you_ are right now."

She was, of course, reminding Gambit that she had her mutant powers when he did not.

Rogue cringed at the words. Not surprisingly, he stormed out. They didn't see him for the rest of the night, and Rogue decided Tessa would accompany them. None of the X-Men had the time to transport her back to school, anyway.

The second night, they stopped in Mississippi. It had been a long, stressful drive, and they slept hard. Posing as a family, the adults shared one bed, and Tessa took the other. At 2:49 a.m., someone pounded on their door.

They all jerked into an irritated state, and Tess quickly moved to the other bed with them. Remy answered the door, expecting and wanting a fight.

"_Marie_? What de hell?"

She barged into their room as Rogue turned on a lamp.

"'What de hell' indeed! _What de hell_ you done t' our girl?"

"Remy, do Ah need to remove mah gloves?"

"_Chere_, dis is Marie. She took Belle's job."

"What de hell happened to our girl?" Marie interrupted, "Five months wit' you and she's possessed!"

"Thinks she's actin' on de damned prophecy! Sin- a very persuasive man has her convinced that if she kills everyone he doesn't like, she can usher in dis _Heaven_."

"Why don't de bastard do it himself?"

"Dat ain't his style."

"Coward…" Marie seemed to relax a little and sat on the vacant bed. "Sorry. You Rogue? Heard so much 'bout you; lovely to make your acquaintance."

Marie gave a very lovely smile and extended her hand. Still tired and distrustful, Rogue did not warm up to her.

"How d' you know Remy exactly?"

"He come t' me when he need sumt'ing. Typical _homme_, _non_?"

"How'd you find us?" he asked her.

"Didn't. Honor told me where t' find you. Ran int' her in England."

"England? _Merde_! Come all dis way f' nothin'!"

"_Non_, you goin' de right way, _ami_. She wants you an' me to fetch sumthin' for her. _Fille_ needs our help."

"She needs our help all right," said Rogue. "But not with what she's trying to do. We gotta get her away from them. This is a _rescue_ mission," she said, looking at Remy, "_Not_ a heist."

"I don't understand," Marie tilted her head and studied the woman, "Dere ain't no good or bad here. Dere's what she's gotta do. Dere's an easy way and a hard way. But she don' wanna be 'rescued'."

"She's just a child!" Rogue argued. "What she's _gotta do_ is get back to school! What she _wants_ is t' be safe with her family!"

"Save your breath, _chere_." Remy crossed his arms. "You got no idea what you're dealin' wit'. Dese people put her on de throne. Girl wants de moon, she gets de moon."

"She is our savior!"

He held out a hand as if to say: 'viola!'

Rogue told Marie: "If ya can't put aside your expectations for her sake, you're no help."

"Listen, _Missi_, I don' give two shits if you want me 'round or _non_. De girl sent me, so I'm doin' my job!"

.::.

_Muir Island, Scotland_

The distress call went out too late. Even if the assailants hadn't intercepted it, Xavier could never arrive in time. Even alien technology didn't move _that_ fast.

Moira felt like a rat, and hated herself for every step she made away from the fight. She couldn't help them. The best she could do was call for help. So she snuck away from the battle outside, crept up three flights of stairs, and assembled an old video phone.

Occasionally, the facility would tremble from the attack.

She'd heard Rachel yell: "You _want_ me? Come and _get_ me!"

Hathor had taken a serious beating from the younger Phoenix. She almost thought this one wasn't worth the trouble. Rachel could time travel at will, but without instruments, she was likely to land in the wrong time, place or even dimension! How could she be any _real_ threat?

And this was one tough bitch. Rachel must've heard who had killed her mother, and she wasn't aiming to _hurt_.

Hathor could have killed her very quickly, mind, but she was on strict orders from Sinister _not_ to kill this one. Apocalypse's orders contradicted this; he would tolerate no loose ends. She decided to side with Sinister, but make Rachel's body disappear. If she could not pull this off, she would forfeit her life for Rachel's.

For Nate.

"All my mother ever wanted to do was help _twisted_ people like you! Why couldn't you just leave her alone?"

Hathor knew this wouldn't be a battle for the scythe. It would be a battle of the minds, and Rachel was losing herself. The younger girl pulled the blue scarab jewel from her gown and held it in her flattened palm.

"Do you like my crystal? Isn't it pretty?"

"What the hell-"

The jewel began to glow and levitated. The light reflected off the perfectly polished sides, creating the illusion of water inside. Rachel hadn't even noticed it before. She expected the bladed staff to be the primary weapon. But now that she looked at it…

"It is pretty…"

"Papa says it's magical. Think of somewhere you'd like to be… Anywhere you can imagine."

The last thing Rachel saw was a flash of blue light.

.

_To Be Continued…_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**A/N: Warning! **This chapter contains a rather graphic rape scene. If you don't like it, _good_, because neither do I, but I do feel it's essential to the story. Otherwise, hope you enjoy. This chapter concludes 'Honor Saga', and is followed by the Muir Island Files.

**Chapter Eight**

_New Orleans_

Marie insisted on visiting Franco as soon as they got into the city. He would be home, she assured them, and the small party headed to the French Quarters. His home was unimpressive (rather like its owner), and appeared unoccupied.

Marie banged and banged on the door. Then she let herself in.

The afternoon was late and the evening early. The house was dark and stale. Marie kicked through a layer of empty bottles, making her way across the living room. Franco was still (or already) drunk, and passed out on the sofa.

"Franc!" Marie hollered. "_FRANC!_ Wake up!"

Slowly, the body rolled over and he opened blood-shot eyes.

"_Jesu_, Franco! What if Stacy or de boys found you like dis?"

He gave a short, bitter laugh. "She left me… Took m' boys back t' Texas."

"_Mais_, can't really blame her. Now pull yourself together, _homme_, we got Guild business!"

A few hours later, the coffee pot and telephone had been put to good use. Marie assembled both Guilds, and the kitchen table was heavy with old books. She was looking for something, but wouldn't tell Remy what she sought.

"Honor left me a vision in London… It was a terrible mess."

"'Bout de prophecy an' Belle? She left us de same message."

"Don't t'ink so. She wanted you to come home. She wants somet'ing else from me. I'll explain, but we're waitin' on a few more people. I want everyone t' be here."

While they waited, the party took on the atmosphere of a family reunion. Drinks were passed around, stories exchanged, and even a poker game got started. It was so easy to be working with the Guilds again; so easy to call this home. Not for the first time, he considered moving here with Rogue. That was certainly what Honor wanted. But what did _Rogue_ want? She was very much like himself at her age: impulsive, impatient and completely self-serving. But the two of them wanted the same things. It was very easy to imagine a life with her.

Before the meeting commenced, Emma called.

"I've got some bad news," the Headmistress said, "Honor got Rachel."

Gambit felt like a giant ice cube had been dropped in his stomach. "How's Cyke?"

"Not good. And still no word on Nate. Anything new on your end?"

"Not yet. T'anks, Em."

He hung the phone back in its cradle and stood still. When the last guest finally arrived, he didn't notice. Everyone turned their eyes, but no one made mention. In fact, it was the massive silence that finally drew his attention from his own thoughts.

Looking to the doorway, he saw the last person he had expected.

Jean-Luc.

Remy felt the air escape the room and something sharp pierce his chest. Rogue screamed. He wasn't just imaging these sensations – they were really happening. Looking down, he saw Marie's blade pull out of his chest. He collapsed and began bleeding all over the kitchen floor.

Rogue and Tessa were the only ones surprised by this sudden and unprovoked attack. The younger girl was quickly restrained, but the Guilds allowed Rogue to pack his wounds.

"We have to get 'm to a hospital! Ya _dipshits_, he ain't got his powers! He's gonna _die_!"

"No, he won't," said Jean-Luc. "Marie's a professional. I am sorry, Remy, but dis is de only way."

"_Mon Dieu_, he looks bad…" said Franco.

His skin was pale as death and cold to the touch.

"Remy? Remy! Stay with me, sugah. Remy! We have _got_ to get him help!"

Rogue was soaked in his blood. He was rapidly losing color and body heat. At this rate, he wouldn't survive the trip to the hospital.

"De Assassins been hired for a job in London," Marie spoke to the room at large while cleaning her sword. "While dere, de child of de prophecy gave me a vision. I saw two dragons fighting in a cage underground. Their blood was black and red and poisoned de earth so dat nothin' grew but everyt'ing shook. One beast would slay de other, but dey always rise again. De cage was locked by a golden cobra with blue venom. A raven came and ate de snake, settin' de dragons free. I see dis over and over again."

"Bunch a' lunatics!" said Rogue.

The X-Woman pulled his left arm over her shoulder and struggled to lift him. He had fifty-five pounds and four inches on her, but she could have managed if the Guild didn't hinder her. Even with her human-level strength, she was able to drag him. It was slow moving, but her anger and fear fueled her until a female Assassin casually kicked Rogue's foot. She slipped in the crimson puddle, and they both collapsed painfully on the kitchen tile.

"Ah'm gonna rip yer fuckin' heads off!"

"De Thieves Guild has a history of visions," Jean-Luc spoke calmly. He didn't seem to notice his son was dying. "Marie wisely came to me, and we managed to decipher de meaning."

"Attack an unarmed man?"

"Accordin' t' Marie, Honor wears a blue jewel around her neck."

Tessa responded: "Yes, that's right. It's decorated to resemble a scarab. Wolverine says he sliced it, but there were no marks."

"Dat crystal is older dan our planet," said Jean-Luc. "We know it as de Momentary Princess. De Thieves been charged wit' protectin' what we steal. An' dat lil' gem been de hardest rock to find. Legend says it protected by angels, and whoever holy enough to touch it will become god-like. Honor's our ward. De Momentary Princess belongs to us de same as she does."

"She doesn't know de power it has," Marie added. "She t'inks she can control dat gem forever. But she can't."

"What makes you think _you_ can?" yelled Tessa. "What makes you think she'll survive the separation? You can't do this!"

Remy's vision darkened. He thought about his last, unkind words to Storm. There was so much he wanted to explain to Honor. But his biggest regret was not fulfilling his dreams with Rogue. He attempted to kiss her, but she gently blocked his lips with a gloved, bloody hand.

"This ain't good-bye, swamp-rat."

The world shuttered and then Belle appeared, glowing like Heaven. He knew he was in bad shape, but this confirmed it. If she had come for his soul, there could be only one result: he was going to Hell.

"Pochica!"

Tessa escaped her guards and ran to embrace her friend. She shielded Honor with her body.

"Don't leave me again!"

"Oh, Sage. The world is a dark and dusty place without you. Please help my father."

Tess rushed over to Remy and placed her hands on his grey face. The Guild did not attempt to stop her this time. They attacked him only to trap Honor. Now that she had arrived, his condition was secondary. Rogue watched the color return to his face, his chest seal, and his fingers start to glow neon pink.

Meanwhile, the Guilds had closed in on Honor. Unconcerned, she stared down Jean-Luc.

"Big, bad wolf pulled the wool over my eyes," she said. "You _tricked_ me with your basket full of _treats_! You _are_ the devil."

"I want t' help you, _petite_. Please forfeit de Princess."

Marie pulled a large, heavy book into her arms and began reading aloud from its yellowed pages. The manuscript was in Latin, written with a sort of beauty and prose of which she had no appreciation.

Honor turned her gaze. "Stop that! The blood cries for blood!"

The Assassin matriarch continued her chant.

It happened as quickly as lightning. Honor lifted her bladed staff, knelt, and swung it over her head in a single, circular motion. The staff did not retain its initial length, but extended over two times to reach throughout the entire room. Her attack stopped short at Tess and Rogue huddled over Remy. The Guild members who stood behind them evaded assault. Only Jean-Luc stood in the radius and managed to dodge her strike.

Everyone else in the room – including Marie – lay dead or unconscious on the floor.

The staff struck again and again, darting like a serpent's tongue. People were impaled, mutilated, or else fled the house. Three times, she aimed at and missed Jean-Luc. She destroyed Franco's cabinets, kitchen window, and doorway in her quest. Her grandfather darted around like a cricket, and she soon focused all her attention on catching him.

Tessa ran to collect Marie's fallen book and continued reading.

For a moment, Honor hesitated. Then her staff launched towards Tess. Before the strike landed, Gambit charged three cards and hurled them almost blindly. The force of the explosion pushed Honor into the living room.

"Get outta here, sugah!" Rogue told Tess.

"No!" said Tess. "The spell has to be performed in the presence of the stone! _That's_ why the Guilds went through the trouble of luring us here and attacking Gambit!"

She continued with her chant, moving over the words more smoothly than Marie.

Rogue and Gambit rushed into the other room to prevent Honor from leaving.

Jean-Luc watched Tess for a moment.

"Clever girl…"

She only glanced at him as he fled the room.

Honor had crossed her forearms over her face to gather energy. Rogue wrapped her arms around the girl, trapping her limbs. Life-stealing skin pressed against Honor's thin arms, but she wasn't affected. Instead, she bent over and threw Rogue across the room like a towel. Gambit blew out the floor underneath her feet, and she fell through. Irate, she punched the wooden floor boards, sending a bolt of energy his way. He leapt over her head, and as she turned her sights, Jean-Luc grabbed her from behind. Honor didn't even struggle.

She snarled: "When my mother was alive, you didn't _dare_ touch a hair on my head! Do you know I can blow this whole place into the sky?"

"You'd kill de man you came to save."

"Take the stone, grandpére, I _dare_ you!"

"Not for me."

It was a bluff – the stone had lost its light. It was like a tranquilized tiger: anyone could handle it.

Tessa stood alone in a house full of limp, dead or lowered bodies. A few were beginning to stir once more, but they could not regain full strength. She only faltered in her recital to comfort a disoriented Rogue. Surprisingly, the back door opened and did not shut. A pair of high heels clicked slowly across the floor.

Tess realized she had concluded the work, and suddenly wished she could slink to the floor, too.

The woman was enormous. She had impossibly blond hair, and black leather boots. The outfit she wore hardly covered the necessary parts, and provided nothing to describe or imagine. Tess thought: 'Honor would joke about the poor woman not being able to find her size!'

"Word to the wise, honey," the giantess said, "I can hear your thoughts…"

She strolled into the living room, where Honor was trapped in the floor and held by her grandfather.

"Jean-Luc," she whispered, looking at Honor's chest. "How is this possible? Two hundred years of searching… You've never come close."

"We came as close as you have, Candra," Gambit muttered.

"You keep quiet or I'll decapitate your spawn for fertilizer!"

"As promised," Jean-Luc said, "De Thieves deliver de Momentary Princess to our generous benefactress. De debt is forgiven."

Honor levitated out of Jean-Luc's grasp and hovered a foot above the shattered floor boards. She and Candra held gazes.

"So you're the little gnat who's hypnotized that silly Egyptian… Would you like to see what a _real_ goddess can do?"

She effortlessly removed the blue scarab from Honor's gown.

"No! That doesn't belong to you!"

"Then do something about it," she teased with a malicious smirk.

"It's my _destiny_!"

"You think you can cast your spell on me, too? You've always gotten what you wanted. Just wish hard enough, and it becomes real. But not with me, child. I saw you on the day of your birth. Your family was delirious with joy. I told the Old Man that I required every man's greatest treasure, and you were his. He told me that his greatest prize was but a shadow on my legacy. He was right. I should have snapped your little neck then. I could still."

Candra turned and walked past Jean-Luc, Rogue and Tessa. Behind her, she could hear the prophesized child chanting an old, forgotten verse. That passage had been burned centuries ago – Candra personally saw the job carried out. There was no surviving reference… But then, how was she hearing it? Suddenly, her legs froze and her mind was flooded with alien visions. Sights and sounds ripped through her head like lightning. She remembered this sensation… Something was trying to possess her!

She turned to face the silent adversary.

"_You_! You're not even a real person, are you?"

"No," Honor answered. Her skin emitted a blue light, and her hair was weightless. "I am life."

The giantess's legs crystallized. At first, the transparent stone engulfed her skin. Then it moved deeper, transforming the organic material. It spread like water filling a cup. The crystal swallowed her arms, torso and face. The finished product was a life-sized, diamond version of the benefactress.

The Guild dared approach it.

If Candra was still alive, she was hopelessly lost between astral planes. Amazingly, her face retained its last, furious expression. The figure was detailed down to the ridges in her nails and split ends in her hair. The whole thing was transparent: like a ghost frozen in the mist. The only anomaly was the Momentary Princess, which was buried deep in Candra's chest where her heart should have been.

Honor strutted across the room, punched crystal Candra's chest, and removed the blue gem. The man-sized diamond shattered into dust and slipped between the floor boards.

The tall girl proudly replaced the jewel. For a moment, she made to leave. Then she stopped and smiled at Tess. She reached out a hand, which her friend took without hesitation. A blinding light engulfed the room and left with them.

.::.

Two hours later, Rogue awoke in a strange bed. For a moment, she panicked, thinking her dreams had bled into reality. But then Remy was by her side, and reminded her that they were in New Orleans. She remembered waiting in the kitchen while Marie thumbed through ancient texts… Honor arrived to help save her father's life… Then that Amazon woman turned to dust, and Honor left with Tess.

"Are you all right?" Rogue asked.

She didn't wait for a response, but pulled open his shirt and saw his chest. His clean skin appeared unaffected. It bore no new scars or wounds.

"Tess done good work, _non_?"

Her racing heart subsided a little. Now that his welfare was established, there were other pressing matters. So many strange and unnatural things had happened that day. She could never begin with a single, focused investigation, so she asked: "What the hell happened?"

"Honor knocked you against the wall. You were out cold. Poor Roguey not as strong as she used to be."

"Ah figured _that_ much! Ah mean, what the hell happened in there? Was that your father? Ah thought he was banished! Who was that woman? And what happened to her?"

He gave her a lop-sided grin. "_Oui_, dat was _mon pére_. He came back after Stormy and I left; says he realized dere still work t' be done. T'ink he was hopin' I'd stick around, too, but he never admit t' dat. After t'ings calmed down, he an' I had a long talk. Feels good t' get some things off my chest."

"Ya forgive 'm for attacking ya, and leavin' ya to die? 'Cause I surely don't."

"De Guild was bettin' she wouldn't let me die. If it makes you feel any better, I'd do de same for him."

"_For_ him? Or _to_ him? And what in blazes are you _grinning_ about? Honor's gone – _again_ – we've got _no_ idea where, and now _Tess_ is with her! Your family lied to you and tried to kill you on a _gamble!_ People've been _hurt!_ Franco's house is a _mess!_"

"Of course de situation looks bad when you put it like _dat_. Come on, chere, I got my powers back, _non_? And my girl had all de odds stacked against her, and she _still_ came out on top!"

"And that's why you're smilin'?"

There was a light tapping on the door, and then Marie slowly let herself in. When she saw Rogue sitting up, she smiled, but spoke directly to Remy: "Did you ask her?"

"Just getting' to it…" He turned back to Rogue and said. "De woman Honor killed-"

Rogue gasped.

"-She's one of de most powerful mutants in de world. And she's been sendin' my family on wild goose chases for centuries. She's wanted dat stone forever, remember? Jean-Luc wondered why she couldn't catch it herself."

"She wasn't _holy_ enough?" Rogue raised a skeptical eye brow.

"Somet'ing like dat. I don't understand it all… I believe even _less_. But Candra knew more den any of us. She acted like she even knew what Honor was up to."

"Too bad she's _dead_."

"Maybe. Maybe not." He pulled out a folded handkerchief from his pocket. He laid the material carefully on his lap and then unfolded the cloth. At the center lay several crystal shards.

"Ah don't understand…"

"If she's still alive, she's in here."

"Remy, Ah don't know if my powers work that way."

"Are you willin' t' try?"

.::.

_Xavier Academy_

Hank had a million projects demanding attention: the Legacy Virus was dangerously close to home, Nate and Rachel had disappeared from this reality, and Jean's funeral would be held in the morning. Moira's own progress on the virus had stalled. Hank needed to bury himself in his work. He was certain he could break the barrier: find a way to halt and reverse the effects. Twelve people died every day from this techno-organic nightmare. How long before it claimed the life of one of his colleagues or students? But time was of the essence in locating Scott's children. Nate and Rachel were two of the most powerful people on earth. To conquer _them_ required the most supreme resources. Compounded to the anxiety of their disappearance was Jean's upcoming burial. Rachel would most certainly want to attend; no force could keep her away. Nate was not her son, but he had cared for her. He also cared for Scott and Ray, and he would certainly show to comfort them in their sorrow.

Amidst the endless demands and conflicting personal concerns, he found he missed Honor: his little assistant. He missed her bright face, quirky sense of humor, and unpredictable mood swings. Sometimes during his day, her ghost would sweep through, and the laboratory would mourn her loss. He shook off the chill and returned to numbers, but the sorrow stayed with him.

The night preceding Jean's funeral, he meandered to Honor's old bedroom. Her roommate, Julie, had been moved to another room. The school wasn't a home with sentimental luxuries. When a room emptied, new students immediately filled it. Posters, beds, and furniture rotated regularly. No one left anything of themselves behind. However, Honor's room was declared possible evidence. The X-Men didn't want to remove anything important.

And now that she was… gone… No one knew what to do with her things. Was she coming back? If she did, would she even want these things? They were reminders of the person she no longer was, and would never be again.

_I'm glad you don't hide who you are._

Keeping with his unreasonable adventure, Hank began to comb through her journal. She kept a personal record in a common composition journal, but the inside content was unique.

At first sight, her writings were a mess. She didn't write legibly or uniformly, but wrote in the corners, margins, and in blocks across the majority. The words were written backwards, confirming Hank's suspicions that she was ambidextrous. For some reason, she also jumbled the words together in a combination of French, Spanish and Latin.

Sometimes she didn't even complete a word in a single language, but morphed them together to create a new tongue. It was a mess: clearly, never meant to be understood by anyone but herself or perhaps Miss McNeil, who knew Honor as well as she knew herself. He was still learning the code, but was certain she used codes for names as well. She referred to herself in child-form as "_Gambel_": a play on her parents' names; herself in friend-form was "_Arist_", a term she also used for Tess.

Adding to the confusion, she wrote over old inscriptions, drew pictures and jotted useless names and formulas.

Naturally, the result was a painful and revolting work, meant to dispel the casual observer. Rather like its author, this book appeared plain and pretended to be apathetic; but some hard work and understanding proved it to be complex and desperate for attention.

The content itself was rather disappointing, and not at all as helpful as Tessa's diary had been. Tessa wrote from right to left, from front to back. She didn't always write in English, but she did retain the same language throughout an entry. Every submission was dated, had an entrance and signature at the end. She used names, described places, and took care to distinguish between reality and thoughts.

Honor, on the other hand, appeared to throw open the book anywhere and begin writing. The front and back was heavily populated with scribble, but she did occasionally venture towards the middle of the book. She never used names or described real events. She only wrote how she felt.

One verse read (translated): _Diamond king paints my sleep. . Help to keep my secrets hidden. Badland clans no longer weep. . Life bemoans the death unbidden. _Another went: _Adrift in the ocean. No anchor. No boat. Frozen to my bones, so scared. Black sharks circling me. Keep it together. Don't let them smell fear._

Hank was the only one who bothered to read this, now that she was gone… Most of it was still un-translated, and the others seemed content with Tess's diary. He moved on to a legible piece.

_ANUL ALED ANIN AL_

_3. 12. 43.2_

She must've been feeling particularly focused (or sloppy) when she wrote this. It was simply backwards: _La Nina de la Luna_, the moon's child. And if he wasn't mistaken, the numbers were coordinates. He was so excited that when the telephone screamed through the silence, Hank jumped as if from slumber and dropped the book. Cursing himself, he had barely recovered the book when he was startled once more.

_*X-Men,*_ Emma telepathically called, _*To the hanger. We've located Nate and Honor.*_

.::.

_The Blue Area of the Moon_

Nate dropped to the floor in agony. He'd never known such pain, and Apocalypse hadn't laid a finger on him. The ancient mutant was well adept at tolerating and inflicting pain. But as blood-thirsty and ruthless as he was, Nate had come to realize that Apocalypse didn't act without intentions. The pain wore down Nate's mental resistance, and allowed Apocalypse to violate his mind like a red-hot iron poker.

"Why did you attempt to contact Charles Xavier? Did I not forewarn you of the consequences?"

"_I didn't!"_

He kicked and held his skull, trying to crush it with his hands and end this.

"I was trying to find my sister!"

Apocalypse saw this was the truth. Mercifully, the pain subsided. Nate relaxed and began to breathe again. Then, it returned: like a hundred fog horns screaming in his head. His ears bled.

"_Stop it! Stop it! I told you the truth!"_

That's not what he was being punished for. Nate realized that Apocalypse had discovered Honor's infatuation with him. It was a harmless crush, but it was sincere. She loved him more than her Death God, and for that love, she had spared Rachel _and_ lied about it.

Nate would pay the price.

.::.

Honor was relieved that Sinister and Apocalypse weren't in her palace. Mr. Sinister was pre-occupied with modifying Tess, and Apocalypse was mercifully elsewhere. That meant she and Nate could be themselves: talk about places they'd been and plan to visit them again but together. Lately, whenever she thought about him, her stomach fluttered and her cheeks flushed. She hadn't been this happy since before her mother died. At first, she didn't even realize how he affected her, but now she had to work hard at hiding it.

"Nate?" she called, practically skipping down the hall. "_Naaaaa-than?"_

"Here I am," he replied. "Come to my room."

She found him sitting on his bed and joined him.

"How easily you came," his voice was different, "Like a fly into the web."

His fist punched her face. Then his body was on top of hers, holding her prisoner.

In a physical battle, they resembled gazelle trapped under a boulder. His body was sculpted, heavy and well-defined. She was tall and lithe, but weak and underfed. All her struggling couldn't free a single finger. For a moment, he enjoyed her suffering.

"If _this_ is your best resistance, then you do not deserve victory."

"Nate, please! I know you're in there! Help me!"

"Is this not what you wanted?"

She generated a force field, but it disintegrated before reaching him. Gathering her energy again, she charged the air, intending to blast him away. She saw the deadly result too late to stop it. That energy, too, collapsed, and turned on her in a fiery blue explosion. The bed and most of the room lay in burnt ruin, but Nate escaped unscathed.

Weak and wounded, her body no longer resisted.

…

The Blackbird scanned the Blue Area of the Moon from a distance. A new building had appeared since their last visit: an exotic palace fit for a princess. The X-Men met no resistance in approaching, and landed within visual distance of the palace.

The world began to shake, and sections of the building collapsed.

"Are they still here?" Scott asked Emma.

She was silent for a moment while scanning the area. "Honor is… But I'm not picking up on Nate at all."

Gambit bolted from the plane with Rogue close at his heels.

Storm sighed and said: "I will try to keep the atmosphere stable." Then she, too, followed.

…

With one hand, he held her hands above her head. The other tore the top of her gown.

Honor pressed her hip bone against his testicles, forcing him slightly up and giving herself some space. She quickly wiggled and managed to pull her knees up against his torso. Her legs were much stronger than her arms, and she was certain she could push him away.

Sinister briefly appeared in the doorway.

"_This_ should yield some interesting results," Mr. Sinister said to himself. "The union of their genetic material has crossed my mind, but this route would allow for an unprecedented examination of nurture versus nature. Bed her well, my boy."

"_Nathaniel!"_ Honor yelled, "You son of a bitch! _Help me!"_

He walked away.

…

Scott mentally reviewed his options. The only reason they'd come here was because Gambit was working on a lead. He, Rogue and Tess had barely arrived in New Orleans when he called back with information. Apparently, he was acquainted with a very powerful telepath who was also in the know about Apocalypse's activities.

Honor turned this telepath into crystal, and then crushed her. But somehow this mutant survived with her powers and memories trapped in the stone. Stranger still, Rogue had been able to pull the telepath's memories. Through this unverifiable information, the X-Men learned that their children were being held on the Moon. Hank was quick to support this information with scribble Honor had left behind, but that wasn't proof of anything at all. The whole thing seemed like a waste of time and resources.

Cerebra could not project Emma's mind that great distance, but now that they were _on the moon_ and she _still_ couldn't find Nate, it occurred to Scott that he had been killed long ago. Gambit was certainly not above lying to save his daughter.

Scott felt light-headed and livid.

Nate.

His only son.

He had wanted so badly to believe his son was still alive and unharmed. He'd lost Jeanie and Rachel. If Nate were gone, too, he would stroll through the veil without a second thought.

"I'll find him!" Emma said harshly, her voice hitting him like a bucket of ice-water. Then she snapped at Beast, instructing him to keep Cyclops on the Blackbird at all costs.

…

She bodily fought on. A few times, she lifted Nate's body from the destroyed mattress, but he'd grin sadistically and return slowly under his own strength. His power was _incredible_. He was stalling again to judge her resistance. After he was satisfied with the time limit, he shifted his balance slightly and pinned her folded legs between them. She was trapped once more. All her focus and energy didn't move him an inch.

His empty hand reached between them, exposing the necessary areas.

She screamed and fought like a mad person. She needed more time, and she would certainly be able to appeal to Nate's buried persona. But what could she do? She was trapped. Her hands were pinned painfully above her head, her back was against the busted bed, and her legs were jammed up with her knees against her chest. Physically, her only available move was to spread her legs, and she wasn't going to do that! But whether or not she opened her legs, he would still be able to rape her.

"Please…" She whispered, "Please don't do this!"

She shook her head furiously, as if denying it would undo it. She couldn't look him in the eye.

…

Gambit had trouble keeping his footing while the palace shifted from one side to another like a boat on the ocean. He knew Honor was alive. Of course she would be. And somehow, he also knew she would be where all the trouble was.

…

His body lowered, and she felt a sharp stab in her genitals and stomach. She launched energy bolt after bolt, but he shrugged them off. She screamed and wept and struggled, hardly noticing that he'd stopped. Nate had barely regained control of his body, but that control was slipping. At his most basic instinct, his body _craved_ sex, and Apocalypse perverted that desire to continue the rape. Of all their intimate encounters, this was the most dramatic. It must be her religion, he decided, that spurred her great reluctance. Catholicism placed such a stigma on sex that she believed this to be a form of death. And it was.

Honor was screaming for her mother now, still tossing her head back and forth.

Nate's body thrust into hers with such force that the charred mattress crumbled. The bed was just springs and wood and cloth now: the combination as chaotic as the girl who lay atop it. A metal spring dug into the flesh of her shoulder. Her screams could not have been more painful, but the smell of blood added to his pleasure. His seed unloaded into her unwilling womb, but that sensation was just a sigh compared to the ecstasy of her torture.

Then he pulled away from her and collapsed on the floor.

She quickly pulled herself into a protective position, rocking and screaming for her mother.

"I'm sorry," he said, crying.

When he tried to touch her, she yelped and hid behind her arms.

"I'm sorry! 'On, _please_! You know I – I'm _sorry_!"

He didn't know what else to say.

A shadow crossed the floor. Someone grabbed Hathor's staff and struck Nate across the head. He collapsed with a sickening crunch.

Honor dared to look.

"Momma?"

"I'm here, _chere_."

Bella Donna stood proudly: six feet tall, nude and furious. Her blond hair was wet, and her body bore tiny, strange markings and cuts. She wrapped her child in a bed sheet and then carried her out like an infant.

"Dis has gone on too long!" Belle hissed. "_Apocalypse_! I know you can hear me!"

The great beast appeared, smiling. Honor made herself as small as possible in her mother's arms.

"Do you know what dat boy did? Did you not hear her _screamin'_?"

"The resemblance is uncanny," he said, studying her. "Essex was well worth my resources."

"Dat ghostly bastard been usin' my girl and it ends here! Dat boy – _Nate_ - been bred, born and spared 'cause he's de only one _worthy_ to oppose you!"

"Momma, no!"

But it was too late.

"Sinister been protectin' him all his life!" Belle cried. "Yeah, dat's right. His best tool against you been right under your nose, and you too _stupid_ to see it!"

Apocalypse roared until the castle trembled from its foundation.

…

The air was definitely evaporating. Whatever held this place together was coming undone. Gambit heard Rogue stumbling behind him and wanted to help her, but time was against him. He pushed himself to move quicker, using his supernatural agility to run up walls and leap over debris to stay on his feet. He rounded a corner and suddenly collided with a naked blond woman. As they slammed together, the woman dropped something large.

Belle.

He slammed the woman against the wall.

"Who are you?"

"_Bella_…" she squeaked.

"My wife is dead."

"Sinister cloned her!" Honor shouted from the floor.

His daughter had been wrapped in a sheet and hidden from view. She was the object in Belle's arms. Thankfully, that ridiculous Egyptian garb had been removed. She didn't even have the Momentary Princess anymore.

Gambit relaxed his grip around Belle's neck.

She sputtered, "Dat's what dis whole t'ing been about. Ain't for no damn _prophecy_!"

After a moment's hesitation, he threw his jacket over her. The duster covered her as well as any dress.

"Where's Nate?" he asked, tucking the collar around her neck.

"_No_!"

"Belle, what-?"

"Down the hall!" Honor provided. "On the right!"

"_Remy, no!"_

"See dat dey get back safely," he told Rogue.

He sped away to his destination, and found the poor kid beaten unconscious. His head was already beginning to swell, and blood clotted his ear canals.

As Gambit considered how he would quickly move Nate without worsening his injuries, he began to observe his surroundings. The kid had been beaten and left in a bedroom which was just as messed up. The bed had been broken, the walls charred. He remembered Belle's strange behavior, and the fact that both girls were undressed. Unwillingly, he noticed Nate's pants undone.

Emma charged in after him, panting.

"Oh poor baby. Oh, honey, no…" she kneeled by the boy and stroke his hair.

"What're you goin' on about?" Gambit snapped at her.

"He's been possessed. His mind's been torn to shreds."

She said nothing about his open pants while she closed them. Then the two of them carried him outside and to the jet. The air was becoming too thin. The building was mostly gone. Somewhere out of sight, they heard the rumblings of a great battle, but no one cared to interfere.

Gambit gladly dumped the boy on his father, and ran to his own hysterical child.

"What're you waitin' for?" he asked Beast at the controls.

Dr. McCoy lightly pointed at the door, which was re-opening to allow Storm to enter. She carried Tess, although the girl easily stood when released. She had deep cuts down her cheeks like tear tracks, gashes on her biceps and down her shins. The wounds were still bleeding, and the blood stained her thin white dress. As soon as she saw Honor, the girls collapsed into each other's arms, crying.

Cyclops reluctantly left his son with Emma and Hank and readied the jet for take-off. As much as he wanted to be with Nate, he knew the best thing he could _do_ was to hurry him back to the med-lab. Ignoring the shaking ground, he got the wheels up and honed his attention on those behind him. He was able to tune out Storm tending Tess's wounds, Bella Donna's voice, and Gambit's mounting anger. But his own mental understanding of the situation crashed through his focus. So Honor joined Sinister to have her mother cloned… Why should that surprise anyone? Wouldn't she do the same for her father: a man she'd just met? She was lucky to escape this little _plot_ alive. But if _Nate_ perished for _her_ foolishness…

Emma cried out in pain and fainted.

"Nathan!" Stormed screamed and then slammed against the wall.

The hair on Scott's neck stood up as a chill ran down his spine. That was _not_ his son.

"It's _Apocalypse_!" Honor yelled. "I _tried_ to tell you!"

Hank was thrown across the plane so violently that he left behind an imprint. Next, Scott heard Honor gasping for air and some struggling.

Hank cried: "No, you mustn't! You'll kill him!"

"Dat's de point!" Bella Donna replied.

Scott pulled up the nose of the jet sharply. Everyone on board was thrown to the back in one heap, including Nate/Apocalypse. Before anyone could collect themselves, he leveled out and they fell again. He could fly like this all the way back to New York if he had to.

"Stop it!" Honor yelled. "You'll ruin _everything!"_

Nate/Apocalypse adjusted his body to deal with the unstable environment and flew after Honor once more. She caught his wrists, but he easily overpowered her and grabbed her neck once more.

"I want to see the light go out of your eyes!" he roared.

"Nate… please… for Rachel…"

His hands relaxed.

Gambit charged up a handful of cards, but before he could throw them, the plane dropped so abruptly that everyone fell to the ceiling. Honor slammed into the rounded metal barrier with Nate's head under her diaphragm. Tears sprang to her eyes and she couldn't inhale. Before anyone could recover, they fell again. This time, he landed bodily atop of her. Gambit picked him up and threw him (accidently) into Storm. Honor tried to stop him, but she was helpless. She couldn't even speak.

_There's no time for this. They're going to kill each other!_

Tess grabbed Honor's hand and gave her a little boost. Then, Tess said: "We need to move _now_."

"If we go back, Rogue dies," said Honor. "If we go forward, Nate dies. How can I choose?"

"You don't have to."

Tess looked at Gambit, and then next time everyone was thrown together, Honor grabbed his exposed middle and ring finger on his left hand. He was stubborn and a non-believer, which made him impossibly difficult to contact on the astral plane. But she hoped against hope that he could hear her and would listen.

_Rogue didn't know yet, but she was carrying twins. A boy and a girl: both with brown hair and green eyes. They would have their father's mind and their mother's heart, but if Scott kept beating her up like this, they would never be born._

Gambit grabbed Rogue and used his body to buffer her blows. The next time they fell, he grabbed a seat and attempted to buckle her in. She was frantically trying to avoid touching him with her skin. Once she was secure, he would attempt to arrest Cyclops. He never looked back.

Honor and Tess struggled to reach the emergency escape pod at the rear of the craft. Belle tried to stop them, but she was weakening and disoriented. Once inside the pod, launched back to the moon. The journey took much longer than Honor would've liked, so she never planned for a soft landing. They crashed near the castle ruins and forcefully opened the hatch. Tess had completely relied on Honor's psychic powers to keep them from killing themselves, but she was beginning to have her doubts.

Honor held her hands out in front of her, at first folded together. As she separated her palms, a light emerged and died down again to reveal the Momentary Princess. She closed her fingers around the slick stone.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Tess asked cautiously.

"I can use the Princess to destroy his unoccupied body. The force should wake Rachel. Only she can help Nate now… Just because _you_ don't understand _how_ it works doesn't mean it _won't_ work."

"You aren't so sure, either." Tess's warm hands folded over Honor's shoulders. A soothing energy flowed through her frame, revitalized her body and soul. "Don't be afraid, Pochica. I won't let you face this great unknowing alone."

Between them, the Momentary Princess glowed blue. Its light and power increased, threatening to engulf them. Seer or no, Honor didn't know what would happen when she unleashed this power. It had eliminated Candra's body, so she hoped it would be enough to do the same to Apocalypse. Otherwise, the brute would have _two_ host bodies, and Nate would never be free of him. Even if she succeeded, she didn't know how powerful the backlash would be. But she had hurt Nate so deeply, when all he'd ever done was try to help her.

Apocalypse erupted from the ruins of the castle like a child from the womb. He was enormous and foreboding. Although the ground trembled in his wake, Honor stood firm. All of her scheming, all of her lies, all of her sacrifices had been for this moment. She had done terrible things, and this was her one chance to set them right again. But she was so tired. So very tired.

"Life Goddess, have you forgotten your place?" His voice rumbled like thunder.

Heaven reached down and touched Honor. Her skin turned luminescent blue, so bright and pure that no eyes could bare the sight. For an immeasurable second, she maintained her deity. Then the energy flowed out of her, through the ground and into her target. It began in his feet: turning them to stone and then to crystal. He stomped the ground, attempting to crush Honor, but the dust billowed up and cloaked her in darkness. The transformation continued to overtake his body. His organic material converted to an inorganic, albeit mortal, matter. He had never encountered such a challenge, but he was certain he would conquer this, too.

"I am the immortal God of Death! I cannot be killed by a child!"

"Not killed," Honor whispered. "_Converted_."

His eyes were finally bleached. The giant was now completely transformed. His every detail was preserved: the joints in his armor, the lines between his brow, and even the murderous glint in his eye. But as with Candra, he couldn't be left intact. As the dust settled around his tree-trunk legs, Honor emerged from the black cloud and placed her hands against his feet. A moment later, he exploded. The force pushed the jet away and leveled everything on the moon, creating a new crater. A wall of blue energy rushed over the moon, the jet and finally, the earth. As it rushed over Honor, it snatched the Momentary Princess. The gem slipped between the fabric of time once more, awaiting its next master.

The stone returned to the creases of reality with such force that it pushed out all the energies trapped there, too. Long lost time-travelers, abandoned telepaths, and minds without bodies all rushed from their trenches. One particularly powerful telepath was finally freed from her prison. Rachel Summers raced home… Past the stars and unnamed planets… To earth's moon, where her brother's soul cried out for her…

Honor didn't wait to see the end of Nate's battle. She'd given everything she had to this task, and she had nothing left to give.

.

_To Be Continued…_


End file.
